Out of the Dust, She Rises
by Mopps
Summary: First fic. Cort wasn't sure why she was out here, but she was going to try hard to find out. She'll just pay for it by losing some things in the exchange. M rating for language, violence, romance and adult situations. FLW/Charon. R&R appreciated!
1. Out of the Dust, She Rises

**Cort **wasn't too happy about where her priorities had shifted. Yesterday her biggest concern had been finding a holotape she hadn't played out for the umpteenth time, or trying to keep Butch from snapping her bra when Mr. Brotch wasn't looking. Today however, was a tossup between being shot to death and her current position; yowling in a ditch and wondering if she'd been blinded for good after opening the door to a faceful of searing light.

"I thought sunshine was supposed to be a good thing!" Cort wailed, drumming her heels over the hardpan in fits. "What am I going to get out of rainbows, an enema?"

Cort rapidly pushed and slithered backwards until she found herself wedged in between two rocks, shoved sunglasses over her eyes, ripped her hair loose over her face and promptly jammed the security helmet she salvaged from her escape down to her ears. This made things better to the point where whimpering was a sufficient complaint. Unfortunately, this provided enough clarity for the rest of her predicament to hit her. The quiet sobbing turned into snoring sometime around early afternoon. She woke up a few hours later screaming and flailing a baton at nothing.

Cort had had a decent, if pedantic life up until this morning. Born into Vault 101, she was raised by her father James, the Vault doctor. It wasn't that bad, really. She was bright enough, had at least one friend in Amata, the Overseer's daughter, and some of the boys before puberty hit and their brains dropped into their shorts. If she was seen as a sucky know-it-all and teacher's pet after that, it was only because 99% of her own age group bored the everliving beans(but most definitely NOT the pants) off of her. She figured part of this was to do with having her father and Jonas providing an expanded education beyond what Mr. Brotch had in the standard Vault-Tec lesson plans, and even he hadn't been too bad, with the extra notes and criticisms returned with her papers once he figured out she wasn't a total ditz. Stanley Armstrong had let her play around with fixing unimportant things after she had fussed so much over her new Pip-Boy. Even Amata's father Alphonse had been some good, if only for the realization that manners and knowing that withholding information could get you a long way in certain circumstances.

He had certainly withheld quite a lot, according to the data entries Cort had found in his terminal. The vault had been opened multiple times in the past, it seemed, and they were still all alive. Nobody had mutated, or melted, or grown extra parts(that she could see, anyway). On further reflection, Cort decided that it really wasn't puzzling that her father was able to get out of the vault, but pretty goddamn puzzling that he had, and left her with a bunker full of spontaneous lunatics. Like John Kendall.

Cort had stumbled out of her living area and straight into John being attacked by radroaches. The bugs didn't bother her, she'd been taking potshots at them down in the utility corridors since she was ten. What _did_ bother her was Kendall trying to bash her head in after she whacked them off of him. The 10mm Amata had thrust at her wasn't that much harder than her BB gun to aim, especially up close. She shot the injured guard in the throat, considered, removed his armour and promptly threw up in her new helmet. After that, things got rather fuzzy.

Later, Cort supposed it was shock, and was partly grateful and resentful at the same time. She vaguely remembered saving Mrs DeLoria from more bugs, and supposed that was why Butch's jacket was tied around her hips. Grandma Taylor was dead(and Cort dearly regretted this, since it seemed she had been outside in this blinding hellhole before), Stanley and Officer Gomez were most likely not totally crazy, although she wasn't ruling out partial insanity after the wake up routine she'd just danced through with everyone. She wasn't quite sure how many other people she'd...killed, stumbling over the word murder to that much more agreeable one in her mind, but considering there wasn't currently vomit caked on her scalp, she assumed at least one security guard. With the somewhat repaired state the uniform was in, probably a few more. Dimly inspecting the gashes and purple blossoming in her arms and legs, she decided they hadn't come pre-battered by radroaches like Kendall had. The sunglasses came from Floyd Lewis, but she couldn't remember if they had been a present or not. Other bits of Vault detrius ranged out along her backwards crawl from where she had collapsed upon exit.

She remembered busting in on Amata being raked over by her father and Officer Mack. It seemed like a fantastic idea at the time, and Cort supposed it still was. Amata had warned her about her father leaving, about the Overseer turning against her, armed her, and she'd always been a friend. She'd even had time to be kind when telling her about...

Jonas. Jonas was dead. Officer Mack had killed him, which is why Cort had shot him in the legs; although that's pretty much all she had to aim at after he had punched her to the floor. "I did something else too," she said out loud. "I beat him until there was nothing but pink and white chunks up there. Then I told Alphonse to go to hell, broke into all his personal shit, and got the fuck out of Dodge. Haha!" Her laughter scaled up and down, making her wonder if that was what wind chimes in hell would sound like, which only made her bray harder. One big gulp of air managed to suck in a mouthful of the hair still covering her face and she hitched and spat and hiccuped until she calmed down again.

"I wish I could remember Jonas' alive-face." came out on one of her hiccups. Cort sighed, half considered beating on the Vault door with the baton or baseball bat, or one of the delightfully colourful signs abandoned in front of it, concluded she was above such an emotional response(nevermind that she wasn't sure her arms would lift past her shoulders), then lurched up out of her hole and started twirling the dials on her Pip-Boy.

"Well Dad, if I'm an adult now -and hey! Thanks for the note, it really made the massacre _homey_- then I can find you and ask WHAT THE HELL YOU WERE THINKING!" she screeched. "You're probably going to this Megaton settlement. It was in the report, and barring annihilation by giant ANTS, it's probably my best bet."

Cort flipped her hair to the back of her head, jammed her helmet back on, grabbed her scattered belongings and started tottering down the hill into a wobbly southeasterly track.


	2. Slouching Towards Megaton

**Megaton** rose out of the wasteland like a rusted barnacle on the blasted rock of the world, although some would compare it to a boil on the ass of eternity. It was all about perspective. One of the only outposts of humanity(and various persons aspiring to or descending from such) in the Capital Wasteland, it appeared superficially dead except for a robot, a beggar, and quiet movements in the catwalks above the main entrance.

Stockholm rolled over, took a drink of water, then went back to scanning the horizon. Today had been fairly uneventful, aside from a few giant ants(and God he hoped there wasn't a nest forming nearby, that's all they needed), and the sun was getting long on the ground. Deputy Weld was getting on his short nerves stationed above it. He really had to ask Sheriff Simms if there wasn't any possibility of getting him a radio up in his scaffolding, even the Enclave Eyebots were starting to cheer him up, and if that wasn't a sign of total boredom then he-

Something moved in the general direction of Springvale. "Raiders? Raiders would be distracting, if not new," Stockholm mumbled to himself, setting his rifle stock firmly into his shoulder. Guard duty wasn't a bad schtick, especially in a fortified tower, but it could get damn boring. Everything was the same. Not that he actually wanted exciting, since that usually came with a free side of maiming or death. Speaking louder and calling down into Megaton, "LUCAS, we got something!"

Megaton's sheriff peered up at the sentry, squinting at the light outside the wall and tilting his hat down. "Well, what? Raiders? More of those damn ants? Don't tell me it's another party of ghouls, Confessor Cromwell and his congregation will have week-long fit over it again."

Stockholm peered down into the dust and watched the figure stumble closer. "Not Raiders, 'less they're stupid enough to come in one by one, not that I'd put it past em. Alone, wanderer, it looks like it's...was...electrocuted?"

"Whaaaat?"

"Look, that's what it looks like! Whoever it is, they're stumbling around, and if that's not a rat's nest it's hair, so not a ghoul. They're draggin a couple clubs, but it don't look like they can lift them much. Not setting off the Deputy either, probably okay to let em in."

Lucas Simms wasn't entirely encouraged by this, considering some of the people the Protectron had let by the front gate(Jericho and the newcomer Burke flashed briefly to mind), but Stockholm backing him up this fast probably meant that whatever was slouching towards his town looked pretty damned pathetic. "Let them in when they get here then, and I'll suss them out."

"It'll probably involve scraping them off the ground." Stockholm hollered back, and watched the figure(a female, he decided, unless some fellow had decided on a creative way to store supplies on his chest and rear), drag herself up the hill and nearly into Deputy Weld.

"Welcome to Megaton." chattered the robot in its funny flanged voice. "The bomb is perfectly safe, we promise. Please hold for threat level assessment. Threat level minimal. Open the gates. Open the gates. Welcome to Megaton."

Stockholm punched the gate button and watched the girl pass through to the main doors before lurching into an about face.

_"Bomb?" _

* * *

**Simms **wasn't sure what to expect when the inner doors creaked open, but it certainly wasn't what was delivered. Bloodstained and armoured was normal -although really, what was normal nowadays anyway-, shiny new armour on a wild-haired ghost girl was not. She staggered in, head swiveling everywhere, and happily murmured something about shade before latching onto his face with a wide smile. Her teeth were whiter than her face, and reminded him of when his son Harden's had first started coming in. The amount of bruises all over her were somewhat less than perfect. He wasn't sure about her eyes behind the shades, but the rest of her was a generous pinch over 5 feet, too soft and covered in one unholy mop of black hair.

_Well then_. He thought, pulling himself back from his observations. That was definitely outside normal. He generally tried to keep a friendly face on for newcomers, but the smile was a pretty enthusiastic response. So was the hand suddenly thrust toward him, twitching, but empty and palm out. He grabbed it by reflex and stood bemused while the kid pumped it up over and over.

"Hello, Sheriff. My name's Cort and it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm looking for my father." Simms had enough time to complement her manners before she rolled up like a window shade and hit the dirt, still holding his hand.

"Told you you'd be scraping them up!" Stockholm clucked down at him. Simms stared at him until he shuffled back around to his post, mumbling to himself again. "At least she's different."


	3. I'm a Doctor, Not a Saint

**Cort** had fallen asleep in her father's office again. She had had another migraine, she felt drugged and her head was pounding like a kettle drum. She must have forgotten herself while studying, although she hadn't done that for a while once Dad had decided hunching over a monitor was giving her one hell of a pile of referral pain. It smelled like old lubricant and blood on top of the antiseptic though, so Stanley had to have hurt himself trying to fix Mr. Handy again and the robot had followed him in to see...Dad.

"DAD!" Cort shot up and instantly regretted it. One for the surge of pain that lanced behind her eyes, and two for realizing that the entire day -week? Who knew how long she'd been out after taking the damn swan dive in front of the first person she'd seen out here- hadn't been some pill induced hallucination.

"If you're done yelping, let's see if you can leave me hell alone now." A voice followed by a white haired black man came through the door to her left. Cort slapped at at his prodding, which ended promptly with a penlight to her eyes and a screech.

"What the hell are you DOING?"

The man scratched at his beard and crossed his arms at her. "Fixing up your raggedy ass. You're fine, aside from a class-A headache and some residual photo-sensitivity, which isn't surprising for where you fell out of, assuming the suit you're in is yours. You should adjust eventually, just keep the glasses on for now. Now get the hell out of my clinic." He nodded towards the end of the bed, where her sunglasses perched on top of the rest of her belongings.

Cort blinked an eye open. "Wait, you're a _doctor_? What the hell kind of bedside manner is that? How the hell did I get here? How long have I been here? Is my father here?" She continued babbling until Church jammed a tongue depressor in her open mouth and started her sputtering.

"One"," raising his fingers, " Yes I'm a doctor. A very overworked doctor to be precise, Doc Church to you. Two, it's the manner that gets you the hell out of my clinic as soon as I know you're entirely capable and ready to. Three, Sheriff Simms dragged you in. You now owe him about 50 caps."

"Capth?" Cort gobbled around her temporary impediment.

"It's money, you'll learn it, if you have any braincells left after the drugs I had to pump into you. Shut up. Four, you've been here for about a day and a half. Five, don't know, don't care." With that rejoinder, Doc Church retrieved his stick and left calling over his shoulder. "Simms will probably find you immediately. When you _get out_."

Cort made a face and mouthed unflattering words at the doorway, while swinging her legs off the decidedly worse-for-wear mattress she was slouched on. She wiggled her toes and pushed against the floorboards. _ Well, not too terrible_, she thought. _The headache's even going away, which is impressive after the light bulb in my eye socket. That's not a doctor, that's a fucking sadist. _She checked over her arms and legs and was surprised and pleased over how well her scrapes were healing up under tidy dressings. Poking through her belongings, it was apparently due in part to all of her Stimpaks being thrust into her, if the holes running down each limb were any indication. _They were going into me eventually anyway. At least now everything's a dull thud instead of a scream. Not so bad after all._ After scrabbling her belongings into her rucksack and pausing to tie her hair into submission with a bit of surgical tubing snaked from under a shelf, Cort put her armour back on and stiffly but surely bee-lined for the door.


	4. Reflections on Rust

_Hurray, first review! Thanks a bunch._

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**Megaton** was quite possibly the antithesis to Vault 101. From where she was standing, there seemed to be nothing but a vast pile of disorganized rusting shacks climbing up the crater walls, and a surprising amount of people. Very very dirty people. And if the rather unfortunate cow-thing(things? Was it pluralized with more than one head?) next to her was any indication, possibly mutated. Cort leaned on the railing and watched things flow around her, trying to pick up anything she could. It was the strategic thing to do. Besides, not having any clue whatsoever where to go made parking her ass here as good an idea as any; not being sure she could make it down the ramp without rolling to the bottom cemented it as a fine, wonderful _fantastic_ idea. She would let the world come to her for a change. Hopefully it wouldn't use guns like her last one. She was just considering that there still had to be some kind of spectacular mental disconnect going on with her to be this calm standing next to a holocaust heifer in a bomb crater when Sheriff Simms came up next to her.

"Hello there Miss. Glad to see you up and around."

Cort smiled. Nice twice in a row. She liked him. He was like Doc Church but younger, _definitely_ more pleasant, with a bushier beard. "Hello Sheriff." She smiled again at his puzzled look. "Read your badge. Crabby in there tells me I owe you something called caps for pulling me into his little domain."

"Crab...oh, Doc Church, hah! Crabby but good, and you're better off owing me than him. I assume you're out of that Vault up there?" He continued after a nod from the girl. "Well I kind of figured seeing how clean and whited out you were, even with the scuffing around the edges. Caps, bottle caps, are what's used as currency out here. Don't worry too hard, looking at the stuff you showed up with you've got enough to pay me back and have some left over for supplies. Just tot yourself up to Moira's shop there, Craterside Supply -see the big globe up there?- and she'll trade out with you. She's a little bit scattery, but she won't cheat you."

"Thanks. Say, I'm looking for someone. I think I told you before I fainted on your shoes. Taller fellow, beard, looks like me? Like actually like me, aside from the Vault suit and one of these." She waved her Pip-Boy around. "Name is James." Cort decided to be charitable and leave out 'abandoning bastard'.

"Yes, your father. I'm sorry Miss-"

"Cort."

"I'm sorry, Miss Cort, but I can't say I've seen anyone like that recently." He blinked at the clunk her forehead made on the railing.

"Ow. Well. What do I do now?" She missed Simms looking at his feet and back up again. He opened his mouth to say something, seemed to think better of it and then tried again with a suggestion.

" I suggest you get on up to Moira's and at least get your obligations sorted out and yourself some basic supplies. Then come find me - my name is Lucas Simms, by the way- and we'll see about getting you a bed in the Common House."

"Can you tell me why the cows have two heads when I come back?"

"Wha-sure kid. Sure."

Simms watched her guiltily make her way up the ramps, reminding himself how much of a good, safer for her idea of not telling her where her father had gone was.


	5. Paradise by the Fission Light

**Meeting** Moira had been...interesting. Cort could probably quantify the entire thing as bizarre, but seeing as how the rest of her life was now in backwards-land, it really wouldn't have made any difference. Two hours later(and thank heavens she found the bathrooms on the way, very unsurprisingly she had had to pee like a racehorse), she was lighter, slightly richer, and somehow tasked with a really weird set of assignments. In hindsight, she probably should have asked what exactly Mirelurks and Molerats _were _before agreeing to trot off after them. The descriptions were less than thrilling, even when delivered with a cheery 'Youbetcha!' Considering every time she managed to go somewhere new it involved her becoming insensible she needed to get resources to somehow prevent it, or at least cushion her fall on the way down. At least bartering was familiar. With a limited set of possessions inside the Vault, everyone got a little crafty at trading, and bottle caps weren't too different from comic books, at least in theory.

She'd gotten a bit of a crash course in Wasteland 101('_oh soooo funny, girl, tell another'_ she snarked at herself), received an explanation on what the lunatics around the bomb were doing, and had some more map markers added to her Pip-Boy.

Cort sat on the edge of one of the ramps and plucked at the armoured Vault suit Moira had given her. There was a puzzle. Moira didn't look old enough to have been around when Grandma Taylor and whoever Lewis(probably related to Floyd, Cort thought, nudging at her sunglasses) was. That implied that someone else had made it out before her father and her, and meant that for all the massive lead and steel plug, 101 was about as leaky as a screen door. Whenever it was must have been before she was born and when Amata's father hadn't been in charge. She supposed she would have heard about the shit fit it would have presumably caused otherwise. _Maybe my own grandmother,_ Cort mused. _It's a fucking family tradition. _

Looking around, she tried to decide what to do. Simms was busy across the bowl talking to someone next to the Brahmin, which is apparently what went for cows, or where cows went to, depending on how you wanted to look at it. Her eyes swiveled back to the bomb. Well, Moira wanted her to get irradiated...it couldn't turn out that badly, since she had her Pip-Boy to judge how sick she was down to the rad, and she was promised a checkup and cure when she was done. She could certainly use more towards some Rad-Away, since every food she tested ticked like a wristwatch. Moira was definitely scatterbrained, but she appeared to be successful enough, and probably could manage the treatment for radiation sickness. It wasn't really brain surgery by any stretch, she was in horrible physical shape compared to everyone else out here to go tromping off into the wastes(at least from a fitness standpoint), and truth be told, part of her really wouldn't mind it if she dropped dead on the spot. She labeled this part the wind chime part, since it felt like her first morning, and set to taking off her boots and socks after swallowing a giggle that threatened to choke her. Relatively painless and quick won over being shot or chewed to death any day.

Cort delicately shuffled into the pool around the bomb. "Hmm, tingly!"

"Have you come to embrace the greatness of Atom, my child?" Confessor Cromwell intoned from her left.

"More so to get battered to hell by it, actually."

"Yes, the burden of the Glow can be great. Bask in it and be divided!"

"That's not really what I...sooo tell me about your church then, huh?" Cort went for bland interest over the theological mud sling she felt nudging around the edges of this conversation. She smiled politely and nodded in the appropriate places and thought about drinking out of the pool to speed things up, then reconsidered when she thought that Cromwell would probably take that as a commitment to his loopy brand of faith. Feeling mildly sick and bored, halfway through a what was now Cromwell's soliloquy about the 'blessed of Atom', whoever they were, she decided to flip open a panel on the bomb next to her. Somewhere a plate crashed and she vaguely registered the opinion with herself that more than a few necks would probably be sore with the way the heads on them whipped around to look at her.

"This looks a lot like the oven timers Stanley let me repair when Andy tore through the cafeteria kitchen. Isn't it funny you'd use the same thing to start baking people as to finish baking for people." There was one of those alarming giggles again, but she managed to turn this one into a burp. Cort rolled her cuffs up to the thigh and plopped down in front of the panel. This would speed up exposure and give her something to do. She dug her hands in the wires and rummaged around happily. This was something familiar, and familiarity right now was rare and soothing.

"Miss Cort? What do you think you're doing?" Simms had come up behind her, his boots not quite touching the edge of the pool.

"Helping Moira and keeping myself busy. Your robot is a bald face liar, by the way. This thing's active as hell. You're probably lucky nobody's hit it in the right spot." Cort continued to yank things loose and twist off wires. "You're also lucky I read Dean's Electronics and repaired stoves." Two or three hiccups escaped in a row.

Simms crooked an eyebrow and started moving into a position to shoot her without hitting the bomb or Cromwell(although the bomb took priority) when Cort wobbled to her feet and slammed the panel shut with a bang. He wasn't sure but he thought the scream and thump he heard after that was Jenny Stahl passing out behind her counter. Simms watched as the girl fiddled with her Pip-Boy, which started clicking so hard it was nearly screaming.

"Oh good! 608 Rads. Excuse me, I have to get back to Moira before I drop dead. Bomb's disarmed now, by the way. You don't have to change the robot."

Cort wandered past Simms, shaking mud off her feet and making a very erratic course up towards Craterside Supply. Simms ran a hand over his face and sighed. "I need to tell Stockholm to give a second thought before letting in weird." He grabbed a post and leaned in closer to flick the panel Cort had been fooling with open to peer inside. "Sonofabitch. Little girl actually did it." Sparing a glance for Cromwell, Simms decided not to notify him of the destruction of his personal God. The radiation was probably enough to keep him happy anyway, at least until he mutated or expired. The Church of Atom were decent citizens, for all they were their own brand of crazy.

Another scream rang out and Simms nearly lost his grip on the post. Hauling himself back from the pool, he looked up towards Moira's.

"A teeny tiny bit WHAAAT?"

Simms winced at the climbing range of Cort's second screech and sighed again. He'd have to tell her about her father now. He had a debt to pay and a prize to award, and damned if he was going to bald face lie to a citizen that useful. He hoped the kid could handle tricky people as well as wires.


	6. Secrets and Confessions

**Unfortunately**, Cort couldn't. Basic niceties and manners still went a long way in whatever situation she found herself in, if only for the flat out element of surprise. The one glaring exception(and so far the only, although she wasn't very optimistic about it being the last) was that of Colin Moriarty. Cort found herself reflecting on her arse outside for the third time in as many days.

Looking back, she was pretty sure her second (conscious) day in the Wasteland had turned out to be even more ludicrous than her first(the third wasn't much better from where she was currently sitting). She had started out in hock, followed by severe voluntary irradiation and involuntary mutation, and hadn't THAT been a conversation for the ages.

"Well gee honey, don't worry! It's really kinda fascinating!" Moira cooed over her. "It's totally invisible, and aside from a little bit of sluggish reflexes, it seems pretty beneficial!" Cort was convinced that anything that came out of Moira's mouth had a better than 80% chance of being exclamatory by this time. Usually in a rising ratio of chipper to inappropriate, depending on how horrible the circumstances were. "Once you get up past 400 Rads, your limbs'll heal up for ya, just like a ghoul. Great for the high probability of injury out there!"

"Ghoul?" And therein came another wound out explanation and another complex to add to her burgeoning collection. Cort started hiccuping again somewhere towards the end between 'tissue loss' and 'ferals'.

"Oh honey, would you like a drink of water for those?"

"No, nonono that's fine Moira. So. Does this mean I'm going to rot into oblivion now or-"

"Oh no dear, I don't think so. You seem to have skipped over any worries about that, probably since you went from no real lifetime radiation exposure to a catastrophic level and back down again so fast. It'd be interesting to see if I could get the same results with other subje-er volunteers!" Moira hesitated, looking worried for possibly the first time since Cort had encountered her this morning. Was it only a few hours? She wasn't quite sure she'd met anyone that could make her feel so damned tired after such a short time, crazy health fluctuations or no. " I wouldn't go around telling anyone you can do it though. One, there might be people who'd want to find out how and not be as ethical as I am! Two, well, you might weird some people out just a smidge. We don't need someone shooting you in the head for preventative measures. Just make sure you use some of that Rad-Away I gave you before you wander back in around people, since you'll be clicking like a proverbial hot plutonium potato!"

"Th-thanks Moira. I should probably go find Simms and give him back the money he gave Doc Church for me. I'll see you later when I've got more stuff to sell or more...data." Cort fought her gorge down at the last word and scuttled out the door on it.

She found Simms neat the gate again and started hauling out the sack of caps she had counted out for him. "Sheriff, I'm sorry this took so long, Moira had me occupied a lot longer than I thought, and sorry for maybe scaring the hell out of you, the radiation made me a bit silly. Anyway here's your ca-"

"I saw your father about three days ago kid." Simms blurted it out before he could feel any worse with himself.

Cort's jaw nearly came unhinged. "Wha- but you said..."

"Listen, I know what I said, and right or wrong I'd probably do it again. You're green as hell and sending you after him like you are would probably get you killed. Hell, it's a wonder you're not dead already. I like you kid. You're nice, and completely wrong for the world you're in right now. But you solved a huge problem for me and a lot of people by disarming that bomb, and I owe you the truth for it. He came in and out on the same day after seeing Colin Moriarty up at his bar." Simms barreled on, first to get it out and second to head off what he saw welling up in Cort. It was either a grade-a bawling fit or a total meltdown; judging by how glassy her eyes were going behind the shades, he was betting on the former. "But look. You've put yourself in a position that'll benefit you even more this way. I've got an empty house here, that we've been saving for anyone crazy enough to get that pile of crap defused as an incentive. Even comes with a robot." Simms pressed the key and deed into her hand, then shoved it into one of her pockets when it was clear the fingers weren't going to close on it even in reflex. Then he stood back and waited for the deluge.

Cort belatedly closed her hand and stood there gobbling in front of someone for the second time that day. "What? Whaaat? Whatwhat...HAAAHAA" She slammed her hands over her mouth, flinching when the sack of caps banged into her nose, then dropped them to her neck. "Oh I get it. It's give, get right? Hurt? Pay for it. Need money? Sell stuff. Need honesty? Disarm a NUCLEAR WEAPON. COMES WITH FREE SHACK." Cort took a moment to firmly tell herself that she was not going to bray like a maniacal donkey again, and definitely did not need to burp, hiccup, or vomit, one bit, in the slightest.

"Miss Cort. Cort. Cort!" Apparently she had taken longer than a moment. Simms was peering at her, not quite daring to give her a nudge. Cort resolutely pushed her hands back down and stared at him. "I won't say I'm sorry because I'm not. Moriarty is one two faced sonofabitch. I know that probably sounds hollow, coming right after what I just dropped on you, but he's dangerous. Likes to style himself Mayor of Megaton, even though he's not, but he still has a lot of influence and fingers in a lot of different pots. I don't know what your father needed to see him for, but he probably didn't want you to go in after him, and I DO know that there's nothing I can do now to stop you and I'm sorry for that. All I can do is tell you to be careful."

Cort stared at him for a long minute, down at the ground for another, and then back up again. "Thank you for telling me and the warning. I'm sorry I ever smiled at you. Here's your Goddamn 50 caps." Cort flung them on the ground, hitched up her sack, and strode with her head up toward her new house. Simms watched her slam the door, looked down at the little bag at his feet and sighed.

Cort fumbled with the deadbolt and locked her door, sliding down into a heap in front of it. She took a moment to tell the Mister Handy Wadsworth she didn't need anything, pulled her old Vault suit out of her bag, then balled it into her mouth and screamed for a very long time.

* * *

Last chapter for a few days! I've got two contests to prepare designs for this week so next update will probably be around Friday.


	7. Pompadours and Paramours

I got a lot done on my work for today, and Lost wasn't on at the right time, so here's a chapter way before Friday! And wow, first favourite! Thanks a lot :D

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**Cort** woke up sometime later with dirt in her right eye an a puddle of drool under her cheek. "Uugh. OW. Day 3 in the Wasteland. Lovely start." Swiping a sleeve over her face, she delicately picked bits of sand and dust out of her eyelid and winked rapidly to clear the remainder. Wadsworth putted over to her as she stood up, bracing herself against the doorjamb.

"Good morning, Madam. How may I assist you today?" he asked in a plummy English accent.

"Morning? How long was I uh..."

"Approximately 12 hours, Mum. Might I suggest next time you take advantage of the bed upstairs, it may be more to your liking."

"Uh. Thank you Wadsworth." Cort wandered around. Unless there was a whole lot of awesome hidden upstairs, her house seemed to consist of a storage locker and shelves, a sink, the robot and some run-down furniture. "Kind of bare in here, isn't it."

"You may purchase amenities from Craterside Supply, Madam. The proprietress has multiple accoutrements and accessories for your convenience, as well as options on decor."

The idea of letting Moira decorate her living space was both intriguing and horrifying at the same time. Since Cort was next to broke she filed the entire discussion with herself away for a later date. "Soo, what do you do?"

"I am your personal butler, Madam. I can tell jokes, style your hair, produce up to 5 bottles of purified water per week for your personal use, and perform all necessary cleaning duties and chores. I am also programmed for home defense in your absence. Is there anything I can assist you with at present, Madam?"

Cort smiled. It was nice having someone ask her what she wanted, even if they were programmed to do so. " I would like a bottle of water, Wadsworth. And once I wash up at the sink, doing my hair would be lovely."

"Just so, Madam." Cort drank the proffered water and briefly considered having him change his address for her, but it gave her a happy secure feeling. "What shall you be desiring for yourself?"

If you could just clean it all up for me and into a tidy bun or something, that would be perfect. It's been horribly tangled since I had to...since I set out for Megaton."

Cort stripped to her underwear and spent the next hour cleaning herself up and then being tended to. For all the snarls in her hair the robot made out with very minimal pulling, and she was fairly relaxed by the time he completed. "Finished, Madam. Does it meet with your approval?" Cort leaned over the little sink and peered in the spotty mirror. Her hair was in a comfortable chignon that looked like it would fit under her helmet without being inconvenient.

"Yes, actually, this is perfect. I'm going to go through my stuff now, so you can go back to doing whatever it is you, um, need to do."

"Very well, Madam." Cort watched him putt up the stairs, and turned her attention to her bag by the door.

"One Vault 101 suit. One armoured Vault 101 Suit. I really wish I knew who you came from. One 10mm pistol with shells. A bunch of Stimpaks, a bunch of Rad-Away, some Med-X, some food, my sunglasses, a baseball bat, my security helmet, extra socks and undies, my boots, and a small pile of caps. Some of my trade magazines and comics, and Dad's little bobble-head doll." Cort picked this last item up and carefully placed it on a shelf against the wall, then wiggled the toy Vault-Boy's head. James had always made it dance whenever her or one of the other kids had needed a shot or some kind of icky medicine when they were small to distract them. After staring at it for a while, she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, sniffed and turned back to her belongings to get dressed and repack. She rigged up a loop on it to carry the bat and put the 10mm on her left hip. _I could have gotten something bigger like a rifle, but I'm better with this. There's no point in bigger bullets if I can't hit anything._ She mused.

"Right, stuff to do! Wadsworth, I'm going out for a while!" Cort yelled up the stairs on the way out the door, flicking her sunglasses on.

"Very good, Madam!"

* * *

**Cort** flinched a bit when she rounded the side of her house. Wadsworth hadn't been kidding about her being out for so long, the sun was just coming over the edge of the bowl and unfortunately, directly into her face. She really had to see about getting a brimmed hat off of Moira at some point, while it wasn't nearly as excruciating as her first day out had been, sunbeams in the eye still hurt like hell. She made her way around the edge of the crater towards the saloon, pausing to avoid an older man rambling about the "Glory of the Republic". As fascinating as she was sure he was, Cort could only take so much crazy in one day before her quota was full. Hurrying up the last ramp, she ducked inside as an older man was coming out.

Dark. Very very dark. Apparently the photo-sensitivity came with one hell of a refractory period. Cort fumbled around to the right and slunk into a chair in a windowed side room to wait out the transition, blinking rapidly to speed it up. She nearly jumped out of her skin when someone spoke at her elbow.

"I think you are just the person I have been awaiting. I am very happy to meet you, my dear girl." Cort could make out a hat and a suit, and not much else.

"Excuse me?"

"My apologies. I am Mr. Burke." Cort took the offered hand and shook it, deciding to give her own a firm wipe on the leg of her suit(and possibly scrubbing it with some irradiated water) when she had the chance. "I have been waiting for a person of distinction to come by for quite some time. I have a business proposition for you."

Cort ran with her manners. " I see. Please continue, Mr. Burke." She listened to him talk, and slowly discovered that more crazy had decided to find her, despite her best efforts. Cort had the sinking feeling this was going to be a regular theme for her anytime someone, including her, opened their mouths. She decided to nip this in the bud sooner than later. She had things to attend to that were slipping farther and farther away.

"I'm very sorry to disappoint, Mr Burke, but I disarmed the warhead yesterday, right before I moved into this 'cesspool' and made friends." She reflected on this, considering she'd been lied to and mutated, but everyone she had met so far hadn't seemed rotten at the bottom despite this, and she certainly didn't want to annihilate them and all the people she hadn't been mistreated by or met yet.

"You...what? Cort watched the colour drain out of his face. "But surely, one as lovely and skilled as yourself could reverse the alterations performed."

"Oh I cooould.." Burke leaned forward expectantly and put a hand on her knee. That clinched her response. "If I wasn't going to break this mercury switch here." Cort snapped the little tube she had pulled out of a suit pocket, a component she hadn't felt comfortable leaving inside the bomb, along with some various wires. "Like this. That pretty much means it's dead for good."

Burke shot upright, along with the colour that had recently vanished down his collar. "You will regret this!"

"I think you'll regret having placed your hands on me uninvited. Not having a chaperone present is no excuse for treating a young lady new to this world so shabbily!" Cort leaned back while gesturing to her knee and tried to look affronted. She knew those terrible romance novels back in the Vault had to have been good for something eventually, knowledge of out-dated social niceties was apparently it.

Burke snapped his mouth open and shut a few times. "I...I...you have not heard the last from my associates and I, my dark songbird." Cort bit her cheek hard to keep from busting out with the wild laughter again and watched him slam the door.

Cort stood up, slowly released her teeth and hissed. "I really hope that wasn't stupid. I should probably be more worried. And stop talking to myself. And Simms owes me another one." Cort made a sour face and looked around, blinking experimentally. At least talking to Burke had given her the time needed for her eyes to adjust. She dumped the rest of the switch into a waste bin and crushed it entirely with one of the bottles in it making a satisfying crunching sound. Smiling, she swung around into the main room, and crashed directly into a walking corpse.


	8. Friend and Foe

**"Ow**. Ow. Head! Ow. Too many 'ows' in one day." Cort sat up from where she had landed on the floor and rubbed her temples, then wiggled a finger in her left ear. It felt like a shot had gone off next to it. She tilted her head up to apologize and stared.

"I'm sorry! I was coming around to clean up the glass that broke. Please don't hit me!" The ghoul she had slammed into was already curling into a fetal position as if he expected a punch in the head. Cort couldn't remember the last time she saw something so pathetic, excluding herself, and any anger she'd had over the collision ran out of her. Moira was right, they didn't look that bad, really. Her father had gone over anatomy in detail along with a lot of other things, and she didn't remember seeing anything worse on the illustration plates in her books. He certainly didn't smell any worse than she had earlier. It was like dried leather and funky copper. He had no nose, or ears, shiny chalked out eyes, and there was skin missing all over, but he had some hair left.

"What the heck's happened to you?" she asked, trying to sound as sympathetic as possible with a ringing ear.

"I'm, I'm a ghoul. I'm sorry I touched you, struck you, knocked you over, oh God." He clamped his arms even tighter over his head and Cort winced. She scrambled to her feet and held her arms out.

"Not what I meant. Come on, uncurl and I'll help you up. It wasn't your fault, I turned before I looked." The ghoul lifted one of his arms and looked at her like she was crazy. _Well, not there yet,_ Cort thought. She wiggled her fingers and crouched lower, trying to look non-threatening. "Come on, uspy-daisy, lazy." He unfurled further and tentatively reached his hands out. Cort grabbed them immediately before he could change his mind and hauled him up, then snaked a foot back and pulled the waste bin over. "There. No harm, no foul." She watched him grab the bin and retreat behind the bar, then swung herself up on one of the empty stools, pointedly ignoring the stares she was getting from around the room.

The ghoul finished his tidying job and looked at her appraisingly. "You're pretty nice for a smoothskin. Usually I get hit just for lookin' at them, not to mention bowling one over." His voice still sounded like it was coming through a rock tumbler, but it was steadier now. Whatever fit he was having must have dissipated when she made it clear she wasn't going to abuse him. Cort felt sick. What kind of asshole could engender that kind of terrified response to a random, very much smaller, stranger?

"Smoothski-? Oh, I get it. No problems. Like I said, I wasn't looking where I was headed. Is Mr. Moriarty here? I need to talk to him." Cort watched his eyes widen. _Oh_. A particular asshole then. Looking around nonchalantly she caught a few sneers and decided maybe more than one. She considered starting a pissing match over it, and grudgingly dismissed the notion. She still had next to no idea what she was doing out here even with Moira's eclectic lessons, and she needed any advantage she could get. Combined with Sheriff Simms warning about Moriarty, the ghoul's behaviour gave her an idea she might be jumping into the deep end with lead weights stuffed in her bra. She couldn't afford to be chivalrous for him, kind as he looked. There was a moment to be disgusted with herself before he replied.

"He's outside. White hair, beard. Wearing black leather and a white shirt. What do you want to see him for?" he rasped out. Cort remembered the older man she had passed on the way in.

"I'm looking for my father. He left our Vault about 4-5 days ago. Looks kinda like me, tall guy, beard, wearing something similar, has one of these on his wrist. Sheriff Simms said he was in here talking to Moriarty."

"He was here." His cloudy eyes flicked over her shoulder to the door and back. "He left the same day, after talking for a long time. I didn't hear what, they were quiet and I know better than to get too close."

The door was slammed open at that point and the subject of discussion swaggered back in with quite possibly the lousiest Irish accent Cort had ever heard. "Gob! I don't pay you to run your gob, I pay you to serve the customers. Now stop yapping and get serving."

Very, very quietly, Cort heard "_You don't pay me anything_" before the ghoul - Gob, wheedled out a louder "Yes Mr. Moriarty. This lady would like to speak to you. I was just telling her where you were."

"And I'm sure that's all that was coming out of you. Now who might you be to want to - Sweet Mary and Bride. It's the little brat."

"Hey!" Cort spat out, insulted. "Nice to meet you too! Wait, what do you mean?"

"Well you're just the spitting image of your father. Imagine my surprise when I saw him coming through the door again. Although I suppose it makes sense that you're here since you came together in the first place. But not together now, are we?"

"What are you talking about? We were both born in a Vault." She had a sinking feeling in her gut before the words were entirely out of her mouth. With the way things had been going and the information she'd been able to discover, it wasn't hard to believe that her father had left out a few more salient facts before abandoning her. It didn't knock the stuffing out of her any less with the knowledge, somehow only making it worse.

"Oh is that what he told you? The tales we tell our children. Look, I should know you when I see you, you both stayed here before he managed to finagle a place into that hole in the ground. That and you're the very spitting image, if shorter and more well endowed." Moriarty placed an arm against the bar and leaned over her. Cort realized it was to intimidate her, but wasn't in a settled enough frame of mind for it not to work.

"I don't..but he...it was.." She shoved every question concerning itself with her past violently out of her mind and focused on what she needed to know now. "Do you know where he went?"

"Oh I surely do. We had a nice long chat, his immediate plans included, and I'm sure you'd love to know. You'll just have to run me a little errand first to find out."

"WHAT? Does anyone out here do _anything_ without something up front?"

"Short answer, no. Look it's a simple little job, all you have to do is find a former employee of mine, Silver by name. She reneiged on her contract and owes me a bunch of caps because of it. I just need you to go and get them back. 100 little caps. Come back without them and it'll be 300 to find out where James swanned off to." Moriarty smiled and Cort felt disoriented and sick. "I don't care how you do it, kill her, kiss her, no mind to me. Bring me that money back and you can go on your merry little way to dear old Dad."

"But.." Cort stammered again. She was starting to hiccup.

"No buts. Old Colin has you over a barrel. GOB! Give the poor girl a glass of water. On the house, even." Cort took it and gulped to shut herself up. Irradiated. Great. She tightened her hands, made what sounded like another quiet hic, and kept listening to the corner she was getting painted into. "You come back to me when you've managed to get ahold of it, and I tell you where dear old Dad was headed. Last I heard, _Silver_ was heading North. See you when you get back! So Nova, dear, we need to have a word..." Cort put the glass down as Moriarty swung around the corner of the bar towards the redheaded woman against the side wall and stared at his back before stalking out the door. She didn't spare anyone else a glance, and therefore missed Gob trying desperately to get her attention as inconspicously as he could.

* * *

**"Nother** whiskey, rotbag." Gob turned to face the scruffy balding man at the far end of the bar and mentally went over the reasons why he hated his life. "Make it snappy."

"Caps on the bar first, Jericho, before the boy gives you anything." Moriarty snarked at him. "You're not running up your tab any more than it is."

Jericho slapped a handful of caps on the bar and grabbed the glass before Gob could set it down, carefully avoiding skin contact. "So why not get her over a real barrel Colin? Something that pretty, hell that clean..." Jericho slurred.

"Are you insane? Don't answer that, I know what you've been up to, bucko. The only reason that idiot Simms lets you stay is that you're good in a fight." Jericho scowled and buried his nose back in his glass. "Her father may be a do-gooding loon, but he's a dangerous do-gooding loon. Him finding out I manipulated his darling girl into running a job goes as par for the course. Finding out I did or even tried _that_; weeelll. Colin'd be singing soprano before he was singing with the blessed angels, mission for humanity or no. Wouldn't matter who I was or knew. She might not have been raised out here, but he was and he _thrived_." Moriarty looked at his front door and smirked. "Girlie hasn't a clue about anything including dear old Dad, it seems. Or anything in common."

Gob looked up and said nothing, and probably wouldn't have even if he wasn't worried about getting cuffed in the head. He just quietly wiped down the bar and hid Cort's glass under the counter in the back. The heavy base had been shattered in two.

* * *

**And** this is why Cort found herself on her arse again on the third day in a row. She was furious with her father, furious with Moriarty, and furious with herself for being gutless and rolling over when she found out there was something else James hadn't told her. She shouldn't even have been surprised at this point considering the amount of crap she'd gone through, but then hindsight was 20/20.

Looking at her house, she considered going back in and getting more purified water from Wadsworth before setting out, but she was fairly certain that would degenerate into her collapsing on the floor again once she made it inside. She felt if she kept busy she could prevent any more alarming emotional breaks. Besides, she could make her first venture out a short trip and her Rad level wasn't that high; she could save the stuff from Wadsworth for a longer expedition and make do with the water Moira said she could find out there. Even if she didn't find Silver, she might find more useful things to use or sell to Moira in the town she saw coming down from the Vault.

She patted her belongings to make sure they were all in place, checked the safety on her pistol and headed for the gate.


	9. Confidential Terrors

Few liberties with building interiors taken for narrative's sake, if you noticed. :) I won't be doing this with in-game geography though, so no Rivet City next to the Sat-Com arrays, or anything. Thanks for the new review and the watch!

* * *

**Cort** munched on a Dandy Boy apple as she wandered down the hill, poking at her Pip-Boy's buttons. She was't overly worried about this little mission; it was nice and bright out, she was within running distance to Megaton, and she'd already managed to deal with situations involving people trying to kill her and getting irradated. Reminded of that, she twirled a dial. "Oh that's not too bad, only a small amount of Rads." she mouthed out around a chunk of apple. "I should be fine for a few more meals before I need more Rad-Away." Cort wiped drool off the corner of her mouth and started biting the core apart, spitting the seeds off to the side. "Go get lucky and grow, seeds. This place is depressing with a capital suck."

Coming up to the right was a torn apart Red Rocket fuel station and the start of the old pavement, which led away into wrecked cars, houses and other assorted buildings. Cort fiddled with her map screen, humming to herself. "So this is Springvale. I think the spring has sprung right out. Put a feather in his cap..." Cort stopped singing once it sunk in that that and her humming had been along _with_ something and not a spontaneous act. She jumped back against one of the giant novelty rocket's struts and looked around wildly, her eyes finally latching onto a...a...well she wasn't sure what. It looked like a cross between a satellite and a flying toaster. Whatever it was, it seemed to be ignoring her, or making such a cursory examination as to appear indifferent. It was also pumping out a tinny rendition of Yankee Doodle Dandy. Cort wasn't even sure how the thing was staying up. _It has to be some kind of tiny thruster sets hidden inside, or who knows what. I'd love to take that thing apart._ _I wouldn't love to find out how powerful the little gun on the bottom is, however._ Filing the impulse away for a later date, possibly after she found out who owned the thing and how annoyed they would be at an impromptu dissection of it, Cort directed her attention back to the wrecked houses and debris around her and started scavenging.

* * *

**Two** hours later Cort was soaked to the skin, hot, and feeling slightly accomplished. She had found more food, an instructional fighting magazine, plates and glasses, and some bobby pins which she knew were far more valuable than for just being used in her hair (Butch had taught her how to jimmy open the liquor cabinet behind the kitchen in exchange for a peek at her physical anatomy book, which had gone well for him until reaching the blown apart diagrams of the family jewels). Her big coup was a small pile of frag grenades found stuffed in a mailbox. _Thank God my Pip-Boy can identify things for me or I'd probably be splattered around the landscape by now._ She started checking everywhere after that, finding bits of random junk, paper and Vault-Tec letters. Officer Gomez's ancestors made it in, if it was the same Gomez family. Others didn't. Cort went to the last house waiting to be searched to distract herself from thinking about the final letter and the skeletons she had found. She was thoroughly distracted by the frying pan aimed for her head after slipping in the door.

"Heyheyheyhey!" Cort yelped, ducked and rolled. " What IS it with people hacking me in the head today?" She fetched up against the far wall and aimed her pistol at the blonde that had just tried to take an ear off.

"Who the hell are you? Did Moriarty send you?" Seeing as the blonde had a piece of cookware to her bullets, Cort figured there was no harm in being honest, and preferred it anyway.

"Yes, he did, if you're Silver. He blackmailed me into coming after you, specifically caps you took, to find out where my father's gone. Real charming guy, isn't he?"

The other woman lowered her frying pan. Cort lowered her gun. "Yeah I'm Silver, and yeah he is. He's also a fucking liar. I earned those caps doing...stuff for guys. I told him I wanted my cut and to get out of it. I don't want to end up strung out like Nova, and I'm very tired of being around Moriarty's period. I even slept with that bastard to seal the deal. Next morning, he tells me I can't go and I haven't earned anything. I grabbed my shit, including my caps, and bolted the fuck out of there." Silver leaned against the wall and stared at Cort defeatedly. "So what now?"

Cort put her elbows on her knees and flicked her thumb over the pistol's sight, thinking. There was no way she was going to kill this woman, not for getting bent over(literally) by the same man screwing her(figuratively). _Oh, Jeez, never anything but figuratively. Evereverever._ She came to a decision. "Well, he said to get them back however I wanted. I still need to bring caps back to find out what happened to my Dad. How about you give me some of whatever you took, and I tell him I killed you, and that's all that you had? I don't think he'll care enough to check once he gets his money back, and you won't have to worry about anyone looking for you wherever you go next."

Silver stared at her like she had two heads. "You'd do that for me? Hell girl, you've got a deal." Silver dug around in the back of an old cabinet and chucked a bag at her. "Here, and good luck finding your old man." Cort caught it and stood up, heading for the door she came in.

"No problems. Good luck, Silver."

* * *

**Cort** was ecstatic. She'd ducked into the lee of a remaining house wall and counted out the caps Silver had given her; either she'd taken a lot more than Moriarty knew of, or she'd had a stash and decided to hedge her bets and give Cort extra, either way she could now set up more supplies for herself. Three hundred caps went back into the bag when she was finished, and then firmly down at the bottom of her rucksack. "I'll have to count the hundred out at my house so that jerk doesn't figure out she gave me more." She looked around while securing the ties on her bag. There was one more building here she hadn't been through that looked promising, an elementary school. The rest of the town had been quiet except for Silver and the flying ball, so she decided to investigate it while she still had daylight. "Maybe I'll find some books. Maybe even a cafeteria, with more food! At the very least, more exercise." Hoisting her sack over tired arms, Cort trotted down the hill in search of lunch.

* * *

**This** was possibly the worst position Cort had ever found herself in. Inside of five minutes she had gone from searching for lunch to being searched for _as_ lunch. She had forgotten about her refractory period again, and didn't notice anything wrong immediately after slipping in the door. That struck her after stepping into the room far enough for her to get a whiff of air away from the door. Being a doctor's daughter had a lot of advantages; recognizing the smell of blood and tissue was one of them. _Oh no. That's not good. That's not good at all. _She blinked rapidly, almost strobing what she could see. Faint voices came from above her, and she made out a stairwell. Drawing her pistol, she skittered to the left down a hallway. Whoever was in here was either responsible for it, or cleaning up. She had no desire to meet the former, and the latter could do without her help.

"Hey, fresh meat!" Cort whipped around towards the voice. "Here kitty kitty, hahahaaaa.." Whoever he was, he stank, and the knife he had shone enough for her to see. She aimed for the blotch of darkness moving towards her and fired until the hammer clicked dry, and he slumped to the ground.

"Oh holy _shit!_ _Raiders, Moira talked about Rai-_" she slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Hey who's down there? Ratbag, who you shooting at?" The voices upstairs were closer. Cort tore down the hall and through another open door. Her eyes were finally adjusting, which meant she could see details a little better. Unfortunately, what she could see better was a larder of massive piles of human body parts, complete with sides of somebody on meat hooks. Spinning in a circle and listening to footsteps coming closer and starting to jog, Cort did the only thing she could think of and dug into the back of the largest pile, dragging gore in behind her.

"What the fuuuuck, someone shot Ratbag." This was a woman's voice. Cort gripped harder on her empty pistol and made an effort to breathe through her mouth. It was quieter and thankfully her tongue couldn't smell. It could however taste what ran down from her cheek. She was in hell.

"Well no shit Starla, he ain't sleeping. OW, what was that for?" Male voice.

"For being a smart-mouthed jackoff, that's what. Take Hooks and go get the others lookin' around. Whatever dickhole wasted Rats might be still in here, and their dick is going in my pie-hole when we catch em. Raw or cooked." A giggle. Cort was in all _nine_ levels of hell. She listened to them stomp off in different directions.

Afterward, Cort wasn't sure how much time had passed. Once or twice someone had walked very close to her hiding pile, jabbing things under the counters and smashing the fridge in the room open. During the second ordeal, she'd needed to cough badly and had settled for sucking fluid out of a hunk next to her face, not daring to risk making a noise. If there had been anything left in her gun she would have eaten it then. When she hadn't heard anything after slowly counting to a thousand, she very carefully reached down and flicked her Pip-Boy on after dimming the light setting. Shunting to the biological detector, she peered at the screen. She'd been too stupid to turn it on before leaving Megaton, and too scared shitless after coming into this godforsaken school. There wasn't anything moving near her, at least nothing alive.

Quickly and quietly she shucked out of her blood-soaked cocoon like a butterfly from some diseased nightmare, then slid down the hall towards the door. Cort paused at the threshold of the main room and focused again on her Pip-Boy. Seeing nothing on it she made it to the door, checked to see if there was anything outside before slinking through it, then ran into the gathering dusk still clutching her empty pistol.


	10. Failure by Companion

Another review and favourites, awesome! Thanks guys, knowing someone's reading and taking time to tell me is awesome encouragement.

* * *

**There** was nothing but the wind chimes in her head. As she wandered, she wasn't sure if there was anything except those jangling chords behind her eyes, and wondered if they had stolen her name, since she couldn't find it. She had stopped at some point to reload and put away the pistol she was carrying after a massive fly had attacked her and there had been nothing left to do but throw it at it after a series of frustrating clicks. She had knocked it out of the air with her baseball bat and pummeled it into bits with her fists once it was on the ground. After that there was the river.

It came up to her hips, and it washed some of the stickiness away from her legs. Closing her eyes she went face down and under, floating in the soothing cold. Opening her mouth she let the foulness rinse out and move away, down towards the bottom. The clicking noise caressing against her waterlogged eardrums got her attention. She was supposed to pay attention to this noise, it was a good noise, cutting through her fogginess. It was enough to get her up and moving towards the far bank and out again. After that there was the monster.

It sliced into the top of her right arm with a giant claw. The goosebumps on that side went away immediately in a flood of warmth and a fresh red smell. It was nicer than the old red smell, but this was supposed to be an inside of her smell, so she danced with the monster and fired into its little face and circled and backed away and fired and watched it fall before it could open her up any more. Digging chunks out of the holes she ate until she forgot why she was there, then went back to going away. After that there was the long walk and the dawn.

She had probably gotten lucky there hadn't been more to bother her. At this point she smelled like three kinds of death and reeked of Mirelurk spoor, which probably kept the smaller creatures away. Trudging upwards, quietly fleeing from the noise in her head, she instinctively made for a massive enclosure filled with the hulks of dead cars. Whatever that was it was crowded, and close. It had corridors, and metal, and was closer to home and not wide and open and horrifying like everything else was. Passing in among them she felt soothed, and waited for the colours on the walls to change to grey and see familiar faces around the corners, until a hole in the path sent her sprawling into the dust and shattered the dream.

"Whhyyyy...whhhyyyy...why am I out heeere...Daddy..." Cort pulled herself up and wailed. "What did I do for this, what did I do, what did I do?" Every heave of air in brought out a new level of hysteria and recriminations for herself. Hurt from being left behind, guilt from having killed people and eating sludge from people she hadn't, self-loathing for being left behind and incapable of coping. Hitching in her breath in a line of whimpers, Cort got herself under control and pulled out her gun, aiming it at her head and laughing. "Daddy, I'm tired." She smiled, pushed off her helmet and pulled the trigger.

* * *

**Jonesy** wasn't sticking around, oh no, no and no. Able might have thought it was a fantastic idea to chase that scavenger in here, all alone and with a nice bag that just _had_ to have something good in it. There was only one of him and a pack of them. What Able had ignored however, had _completely fucking overlooked,_ was the _motherfucking dog_.

"That's not a dog, that's a fucking furry midget deathclaw!" Jonesy gasped out as he pelted through the stacks. The scavenger had been easy, only taking out one of them and crippling another before going down. The dog had wiped the rest of them out in a flat minute, not even slowing when Bells had managed to shoot it in the side. After Able had lost his windpipe right after Bells lost her face, Jonesy bolted like fuck, to hell with making some caps.

He could hear the bastard behind him, practically snarling up his ass. Jonesy whipped around corners, kicking off walls, trying desperately to remember how the hell he had gotten in here. Tearing around the edge of a junked bus, he ran straight into a figure sitting on the ground and went flying with the impact, a boom going off behind him as he landed. _Did I hit the ground that hard? _was the last thought that reeled through his head before he felt the teeth on the back of his neck and everything sank away into the dark.

* * *

**"FUCK!** By fucking dose! You broke by fucking DOSE!" Cort had one hand clumsily clutched to her face and and the other clapped over what remained of her left ear. She looked up to see what asshole had run her over, debating if she was pissed about the nose or pissed that she had failed to shoot herself, and goggled. The raider who had ran into her was currently being decapitated by a black and grey sheepdog. She had a brief moment to think she had pissed herself and to realize it was the blood from her nose pooling into her crotch before the animal turned back and carefully walked up to her, sniffing intently.

"Dice doggy, dat's what you say, right? Good boy. Don't eat be." The dog laid down, licking the blood off its face, and whined. Cort eyed him and decided to risk moving around. If the dog finished her off, she'd just be where she had been planning to go anyway, and she was sick of talking like she had something rammed in her sinuses. It _hurt_. She was now noticing a lot of other hurts, particularly her back and right arm. And what the hell, having company that slaughtered raiders was nice. "Good boy. Wanna come?" The dog whined again and started following as she staggered up and started looking for a scrap of mirror big enough to see her face in.

She found one two rows over and sat down in front of it after cleaning it off in a puddle, then hauled rags out of her sack. "Oh God, dis is going to suck." Cort put a rag in her mouth, placed both hands on the side of her nose and jerked. "AAAHAHAAHOwwwww!" Scrunching her eyes shut she cupped her hands under the new freshet of blood and took the rag from her mouth and placed it under her nose. "I can't even commit suicide right! This fucking sucks! Everything sucks!" A furry head came up under Cort's arm and snuggled. Looking down, she sighed. _Not quite everything, I suppose_.

* * *

**The** sun was well up by the time Cort had herself squared away. Running through most of her Stimpaks and some Med-X, she had reduced everything to a mild throb with the exception of her nose and left ear, which now lacked a lobe and part of the attached cartilage. Her right arm would scar like a bastard across the top, but wallowing in a glowing puddle had taken care of most of the serious damage(that had cost her a Rad-Away but was probably worth it), and she was fairly certain after peering into the mirror for a while that all her nose would have was a white line across the bridge. The puddle had also helped that start to knit, if not dulled the roar it was kicking up. The ear was a write-off she couldn't improve, aside from keeping it clean. Halfway through the morning she had noticed the dog bleeding and dug a bullet out from between his ribs and slammed one of the remaining Stimpaks into the tissue. The dog didn't seem to like them any better, they itched like bugs had crawled under your skin, but he tolerated it and licked her hand, and ate the tidbits she gave him from a can of Cram opened for dinner.

"A dog, out here. I always wanted one of you. The best stories in my books always had dogs. You've got pretty eyes too, one blue and one brown. Where's your master though, faithful dog needs..." Cort tilted her head down briefly. "_his _master." The dog whined and started walking down one of the footpaths and around the corner. "Hey, wait up!" She half jogged after him and came out into a larger clearing next to a wall, where a pile of bodies was strewn around. The dog was lying on top of one of them, still whining.

"Oh. I see. So that's why you were chasing that other guy down so, um, enthusiastically." Cort kneeled beside the body and started looking through the pockets. She fished out a bag with "Dogmeat" scrawled on the side, filled with dried bits of what she presumed to be different kinds of flesh for treats. "So you're Dogmeat?"

A bark in return.

"And you're all alone. I'm all alone too."

Another bark.

"Would you like to come with me? Then neither of us has to be lonely. I promise I won't check out while you're around, either." Dogmeat crawled over into her lap, gave her another series of long, industrious sniffs, and sighed. Cort thought a moment, then reached over and pulled a faded red bandanna off the corpse's neck, tying it loosely around Dogmeat's. "Here. You should have something from your Dad too." She gently rolled him off her lap and stood up. "Now why don't you help Momma see if these assholes have anything useful or tasty before we get out of this shitpile and back home." Dogmeat barked and grinned up at her, panting.


	11. Company in Sunshine

Minor alterations again - Dogmeat is not an ordinary dog. I practically hero-worshiped the Littlest Hobo growing up. He's not going to start talking or scratching out words or anything, but he will be fairly bright and have a bit more personality than we get in-game that hopefully fellow fans will recognize. :) Let's face it, mutt can get into locked containers on default, there's something up there. I've got some nice plot funnies in mind for this already so it should be worth it.

* * *

**Once** the nastiness of digging through corpses was over, Cort had spent a pleasant afternoon going over all the items she had found in the scrapyard. There were two more 10mm pistols, one of which she made short work of repairing her own with, two assault rifles, a hunting rifle, and a sawed off shotgun, plus ammo for all four types of weapon. She hauled the armour off of the raiders, then reluctantly stripped off Dogmeat's old master. The leather armour he was wearing was too good to pass up compared to her armoured Vault suit, especially considering the damage it had taken on the way here. She cleaned it out with sand, looking around or up at the clouds while scrubbing the worst stains, and switched clothing.

There was also more food, dirty water, bobby pins, a screwdriver and assorted meds, along with some more dangerous narcotics from the raiders. They had interesting effects, but considering the addiction warning Cort decided to shove them to the bottom of a side pocket and leave them there. The last thing she needed was a fix to feed, especially out here, and she couldn't detox herself without the right equipment. Her father had taught her how after finding her ripped out of her skull on scotch with Butch(she_ still_ winced over the thought of the dressing down they both got from that, her for letting him down and Butch for should have knowing better), but somehow she didn't think there was any chance of a quick convenience trip to Vault 101 in her near future to get access to the things needed for it. Tripping her balls off in her current mental state and location didn't seem like a swift move either.

Digging through the wreckage around the yard produced some other nice things. There was scrap, bits of junk and rubber, a little lantern that still worked, and even an ammo box with two instructional magazines and a comic inside. Cort managed to get these after smashing a rock and shard of metal against the lid for half an hour after it was clear her lock picking skills weren't going to cut it. She tried a similar tactic on the door to an outbuilding she found, but it held up against her barrage entirely. Even Dogmeat brought her stuff, and Cort finally decided that he'd probably been trained for it, since he would find something similar after a particularly happy reaction from her to a particular type of item. She made sure to fuss over him after this, giving him treats from the little bag she had found and scratching behind his ears. Packing up everything proved to be too heavy for her, so Cort made a cache of scrap metal and a couple sets of raider gear in a car trunk behind a wrecked out bus towards the back of the yard, then piled loose parts against it.

"I am so done for today, Dogmeat." Cort walked around the bus and then crawled inside, sitting down on the floor in with a whoosh. The fading sunlight was streaming in through what was left of the windows, the scum on them giving it a pleasant golden colour. Dogmeat sniffled around the outside corners, marking the remains of the tires, and scrambled in after her. "Come on over and give kisses. Ew, not in the mouth!" She spent the next little while doing nothing but play and scuffle with the dog, feeling genuinely happy for the first time in days. Everything seemed easier with him around, and as soppy as it was, having someone to hug whenever and for as long as she wanted patched over a lot of the mental wounds she had accumulated. She flopped down against her pack when she ran out of breath and turned on her Pip-Boy.

"_Six days_? That's it? It hasn't even been a week yet. Half a dozen days out here, and look at me." Absently touching the edge of her diminished ear, Cort lost herself in her thoughts for a while, then looked at Dogmeat, who had laid down with his muzzle on her ankle. "I can't keep going on like this. I mean, I don't expect it to get less dangerous, but the way I am right now, I'm amazed I'm not dead. Again. Twice. You're the first thing outside of Megaton and Silver who hasn't tried to eat me. I would be dead if it wasn't for you. I need to get better." He whuffed back at her as if in agreement, then yawned.

"Yeah, I'm tired too, but let's see about eating something first huh?" Cort dug around in her pack, fishing out the magazines and the lantern, and then a box and a can. "Mmmm, Blamco Mac and Cheese with Cram. Bet these will go together, and they're nice and mooshy. We'll still need to go find more water tomorrow though." She fed herself and Dogmeat out of the packages, giving him every second handful, then snuggled down with him after flicking the lantern on. Sometime after dark, when she had fallen asleep under Grognak the Barbarian, Dogmeat leaned over and poked out the light with his nose.

* * *

**Cort** sat on a ledge with Dogmeat, kicking her heels against the rock face in the morning sunshine(the new leather armour made this pleasantly warm) and fiddling with her Pip-Boy. "Huh, there's radio out here Dogmeat! I never thought to check after I got out of 101. There's a couple actually. Right now I've got Galaxy News Radio...nothing but static on that one. Enclave Radio...President Eden? What?" She listened to this station for a long while, occasionally throwing pebbles from the ledge down the hill, head tilted in thought. Once it had cycled back to the first speech she had turned it on to, she snorted and switched the receiver off, bringing the screen back to the map.

"You know fella, that has to be the biggest load of horseshit I've heard, even if there aren't any more horses. I mean look at this place." Cort waved an arm and Dogmeat looked. "If things were a little better, _maybe _propaganda that badly written might work. It kinda worked in the Vault because everyone was comfortable, and even that sonofabitch Alphonse wasn't that cheesy. I mean, he even visibly did things with everyone, like the yearly duct cleaning and crap. And baseball? The only things people out here want to hit with bats are the balls on top of people's necks!" Cort pushed up her sunglasses, pinched the bridge of her nose and then yelped, having forgotten about the break yesterday. Frowning, she rocked her butt back and forth and sat on the offending hand. "At least now I know who the flying toasters belong to."

Leaning back against a boulder behind her after some more time had passed, Cort hauled out one of the bottles of dirty water and drank, holding it for Dogmeat to lick out of in between swallows. There was no particular desire to get back to Megaton immediately, since it was warm up here and she knew the river was on the way back. She could see a road down there, and pretended the cars wrecked on it were still working, going places, people in them without a care in the world. Wait. There _was_ something moving down there, but there was no way it was a car. Cort sat up and looked harder to her right. It looked like people and a Brahmin loaded with sacks, and they were roughly coming her way. She looked over at Dogmeat.

"What do you think fellow? Go say hi? Maybe I'll get lucky and they won't be insane cannibals."

Dogmeat got up and stretched. "Whuff!"

"I'll take that as a yes then. Let's go meet the neighbours." Cort slid down from her perch and started walking towards the little party, waving an arm over her head. "Hey! Hi you guys!" Cort got an answering wave from both and smiled, squinting down at her friend. "Look Dogmeat, friendlies! let's go shake ha...wait weren't there two people a second ago?"


	12. Interlude of Employment

**Cort** was up a tree. In different circumstances, she might have been pleased over doing something that had been a dream since childhood. As it was, sitting in a blasted dead hulk with a giant radscorpion snapping at her heels took a little bit of the shine off the accomplishment. The splinters weren't helping either. Dogmeat was raving, latched onto the tail of the thing and waving like a batshit metronome, the Brahmin was bellowing from somewhere out of both heads, Person Number One was gurgling in a ditch to the back her tree, while Person Number Two and Cort were screaming obscenities and firing bullets into the radscorpion trying to eat Cort.

_I am getting really sick and tired of every new experience degenerating into mayhem_. One second, she'd been looking at two new possible friends, if the waves hadn't been a sham, and the next she was being chased by an eight-legged freak. The thing had shot out of cover and taken one of the people so fast, Cort had missed it when she looked down at Dogmeat. The screaming had clued her in just in time to avoid being trampled to death by the panicking Brahmin. By the time she had stopped rolling, spare guns and pieces of assorted junk flying everywhere, the radscorpion had focused its attention on her captivating acrobatics across the ground.

"Oh _shit_." She froze on all fours.

"Get to higher ground! Climb the cliff, a tree, anything!" Person Number Two was yelling at her, shooting into the back of the monster. Cort scrambled for the nearest trunk, kicking off the ground and scrambling into the highest crutch that could stand to support her.

Still dizzy, she goggled down idiotically. "Now what?"

"What do you mean now - _rain death upon it_!"

Cort pulled out her 10mm - the only weapon that had managed to stay attached to her - and started plugging rounds into the radscorpion. Dumping a clip, she looked around in dawning horror.

"Where's my dog? Where's Dogmeat, where's my _fucking dog_?" No sooner had this come out of her mouth than a blur of grey had launched itself at the thing's rear, latching on below the giant pulsing stinger. Cort grinned maniacally. "Good boy! Sic em!" Dogmeat snarled and dug in harder, green blood streaming over his face. Hooking an arm over a branch, she levered her feet out of the way and got into a better position to shoot down into the creature's beady eyes, emptying out another clip and laughing along with her profanity. Person Number Two emptied his shotgun one more time and the great bug fell apart, splattering fluid across the dirt.

"Whoooo, that was fun. Good boy, Dogmeat." Giving a final shake of the chunk he had torn off, Dogmeat dropped it and smiled up at her. Cort smiled back. "Who's Momma's best boy?" A happy whuff came back for a rejoinder.

"Excuse me, I hate to interrupt this friendly exchange, but it would be wise for us to start moving. These particular denizens of the Wastes tend to travel in pairs." Both heads swiveled to look at the man who was left out of the two Cort had initially tried to greet. Tall with short dark hair and the standard Wasteland tan, he was wearing a ball cap with goggles over it, and armour similar to her own. At best guess, he didn't look more than five or ten years older than herself.

"Oh God you're kidding. I don't think I could do that all over again without puking."

"Indeed I am not. Even if it was alone, we should make haste while our luck holds true."

Cort scrabbled around, pushing her feet against the trunk. "Well, there's just one problem with making immediate haste, Mister..."

"Crow, purveyor of fine protective wares to the Wastes. What problem?"

"...I'm stuck in this tree."

* * *

**Cort** fidgeted, nibbling splinters out of her fingers as she waited for Crow to bring his pack Brahmin underneath the tree for her to jump down onto. Dogmeat had started trotting back and forth from the base, collecting her belongings into one pile. She had yelled down 'fetch' to him as a joke, and stared open mouthed as he proceeded to stack and sort her things together. _Wow, his previous owner trained the hell out of him. This is amazing. _Making a mental note to give him whatever he wanted out of the food collection later, she directed her attention back to Crow as he came up below. Whoever he was, he was _cute_, which made her current situation about a hundred times more humiliating. None of the damn storybooks ever went over how to get _out_ of the trees once you had scaled them, and she hated this 'damsel in a tower' bullshit she had subjected herself to.

"You may release yourself now." Swinging by her arms, Cort gently dropped down onto the Brahmin's back between the cargo packs, then slid to the ground, turning away to hide a maddening blush.

"Thanks. I hadn't been up one before. Really hope to never repeat it." She looked down into the ditch. "I don't think your companion made it. There's a hole right through her."

"My guard, Eleanor, she protected me and my stock on my entrepreneurial travels. As you have noticed, there are perils." His lipped thinned as he stared at the corpse. "An unfortunate loss for many reasons."

"No kidding." Cort started shouldering her things. "Are you going to be alright? By yourself, I mean." She considered the burgeoning irony of this statement while slinging her baseball bat into place.

"I'll have to find a new guard when I reach Megaton. Paradise Falls and Evergreen Mills are on the way, but the available employees there are...less than stable." Crow paused, looking worried. Cort beamed.

"I can come with you. I live in Megaton. I'm not the greatest, but Dogmeat's stellar." She watched him brighten up.

"Then by all means, let us discuss payment arrangements on the way to my next trading stop, and get away from here."

* * *

**"So**, I'll accompany you to Megaton in exchange for medical supplies when needed and repairing the gear I have, and any I find on the way, correct?" Cort and Crow had spent only a minor amount of time haggling over what she needed after she had told him about herself, his skills being more interesting than straight caps.

"Correct. It works in both our interests, and leaves you ready to continue on with your quest to find your father."

The next stop had turned out to be a cleverly hidden shack inhabited by a woman named Agatha. She paid for goods by playing songs on her home-made violin; enchanted, Cort had agreed to look for her great-great-grandmother's instrument in another Vault when she could find the time. They spent an hour listening to her play and ate dinner with her, then moved out to make camp in the dooryard. Crow fell asleep against the Brahmin and Cort cuddled up with Dogmeat.

Working temporarily for Crow was possibly the best thing that could have happened to Cort. He was a font of survival knowledge, delivering information in greater and more practical detail than Moira had, if in more flowery language, and gave her multiple locations for her Pip-Boy map. He had very interesting theological ideas, a result of him being a former Tribal, and more than one evening ended in some type of spiritual debate.

Taking drag position in his caravan also gave her the opportunity to get a lot better at killing things(and at treating the variety of wounds all three of them ended up with), and with more than just her pistol. There were raiders, which she took a particularly gleeful delight in helping to kill, a few regular radscopions, mole rats, savage dogs, rogue robots, bloatflies and a single Yao Guai. That had been particularly horrifying, the only reason she and Crow hadn't been hurt badly was because Dogmeat had given warning well before they had seen the bear. The last two had led her to a discussion with Crow after Dogmeat had been gouged and Cort had discovered just exactly what the flies shat out at people while attacking. She had spent an hour with the trader alternating between combing through the dog's fur picking out embedded spiny larvae and retching.

"I've got an idea for a new suit of armour, and I'd like your help to make it, Crow." Cort put aside the pieces from a Robobrain she had been tinkering with.

"Anything that could add to my profitable repertoire is worth listening to. What did you have in mind?"

"How do you feel about playing dress up with my dog?" Cort grinned as he raised both eyebrows at her.

Over the course of four or five campfires and an exceedingly patient Dogmeat, they fashioned a coat of leather armour for the dog out of spare materials Crow kept for repairs. After two days of testing it on the dog while travelling, both were satisfied.

"This is keen gear, Crow!" She nudged into him as they walked along in front of the Brahmin, watching Dogmeat range ahead. "It covers his torso entirely and doesn't restrict too much. This should make a big difference. Especially with the damn bloatflies". she mimed putting a finger down her throat and gagged.

"It's certainly one of my odder results, but it could prove to be lucrative with the scavenger set." He smiled and looped an arm over her shoulders. "And the challenge was fun."

Cort poked at her Pip-Boy and made a face. "We're coming up on Paradise Falls. I still don't understand why all of you trade with them, or the raiders in Evergreen Mills. They're both horrible, from what you've told me and what I know." She shuddered at bad memories.

"It's a necessary evil. They don't attack us because they find the trade convenient, at least the more organized and powerful sects. We don't stop trading with them because then they _will _attack us, so for now it's an uncomfortable neutrality but a useful arrangement. Eventually the wind spirits will decide to scrub them from the face of the Wastes in holy dust, but today is not that day."

"Dear God, you're the Switzerland of the Wastes."

"Beg pardon?"

"...Nevermind. So what do you want me to do for you at each settlement?"

* * *

**The** final evening out before Megaton, Crow went over everything he could think of for Cort, including locations inside the DC ruins he knew of.

"There are generally Super Mutants in high concentrations around the Mall and in these areas. You should avoid going near them if at all possible, and definitely not alone. Remember what I told you about the Underground; go slow, go quiet, and listen for the ferals. They always screech when they see you. Rivet City is down here, where you may find other traders and I in future travels."

Biting her lip, Cort looked up at him. "I'm really sorry I can't keep going on with you Crow, but I have to find out where my father went before I can proceed farther than Megaton."

"Don't worry over a destiny you cannot change, only try to fulfill it. Your path has been set for you by a greater power. I'll be able to find adequate protection once we reach Megaton, there's always skilled people floating around the larger settlements." Crow closed one eye and peered at her. "I will miss the dog, however." He moved fast enough to miss the punch aimed at his ribs and ran, Cort and the dog hard on his heels.

Later on, both Cort and Crow fell asleep against the Brahmin together, and Dogmeat cuddled up at their feet.

* * *

Note: There really IS armour for Dogmeat available! It's a fantastic mod made by a player I found while Googling for background material, and there's also a miniature pack for him too so he can carry things, plus a dog whistle.


	13. I Say Goodbye, You say Farewell

_Shout out to Sanima for an awesome review! This will be the last chapter for a few days, I have a deadline coming up, and my new bathtub apparently had installation issues. I have parts suddenly missing out of my living room ceiling as of this morning. Bad plumbers. :(_

* * *

**Stockholm** was counting rocks. It was only mid-morning, but today was turning out to be the sort of monotonous scorcher that would have him banging off the scaffolding by noon. Once he finished with the pointed rocks, he started over with the rounded rocks, and considered moving on to vaguely square rocks when one of the caravan traders swung into sight. He grinned and started mumbling.

"Oh this'll be good. Not exciting but I can people watch, and maybe get some stories out of them." He called back over his shoulder. "LUCAS! Trader coming!"

Simms came up from the bowl. "Which one is it? Walter needs scrap and Doc Church wants to restock his supplies."

"They're both out of luck unless he's picked up some random gear, 'cause it's Crow. Looks like he's got a new guard and dog too...waitaminnut. Hey it's the Vault kid!"

"Whaaat?"

"Yeah, and it doesn't look like she frenched a fission battery this time around. The dog's wearing clothes. Different."

Simms rubbed a hand over his face and reminded himself to get Stockholm the radio he'd been pestering for. He was getting squirrely up there with no stimulation. "Well tell her I'll see her when she gets in, I have to go tell the merchants Crow's in."

"Uh, okay. I just have to wait for her to finish frenching Crow."

"_Whaaat?"_

* * *

**Cort** broke off and grinned, blushing like crazy. "Sorry."

Crow blinked and then smiled. "For what? If this is how you choose to part, I can only hope the Spirits may bring us together again for multiple farewells."

"Yeah well, I've been wanting to do that for a while and it's probably my last chance to see you for the near future." Cort started hauling sacks down and arranging them on the ground, her face burning harder than ever. _I am a giant dork. I'm freaking _queen_ of the giant dorks_. "I'll set up and handle any business so you can find yourself a new guard, huh? And stay out here till you finish, my crap can wait a little while longer."

"As you wish." Still smiling, Crow went through the gate and headed for Simms as the first customers started out towards Cort.

"Well hey there sunshine! Aren't you looking all fit and perky! Oh, you got some battle scars too! Very dashing."

"Moira!" Cort tackled the cheery woman and spun her around in a bear hug, then stood back sheepishly. "Sorry. It's just great to see another nice face I know."

"Oh don't you fret a bit honey, I'm not one to criticize some enthusiasm! How did you end up working for Crow?"

"After I did a couple, um, things in Springvale I decided to, to explore, around farther North. That's where I got Dogmeat too!" Cort frantically gestured to where the dog was attentively hovering over Crow's merchandise, keeping an eye on the people browsing. "Anyway, I got together with Crow after a radscorpion attacked the caravan and killed his guard. Moira, I have learned _so_ much getting back here."

"Well good for you, I knew you'd land on your feet out here, clever little thing! Now, you didn't manage to find anything interesting out there, did ya?"

Cort grinned. "Well, how would you feel about a fully intact combat inhibitor from a Robobrain?" She winced at Moira's squeal. "That good, huh?"

* * *

**After** a satisfying morning of dickering, Cort repacked everything and sat down in the shade of the Brahmin to wait, Dogmeat lying on his back beside her, paws dangling in the air. She looked up when a voice above hailed her.

"Hey Vault kid! Sheriff wants to see you whenever you make it in. Didn't want to tell you while you were busy."

Cort frowned and yelled back up. Thanks, uh?"

"Stockholm. I'm up here in the guard tower."

"Thanks, Stockholm."

She reached over and started playing with the end of Dogmeat's tail, watching Deputy Weld totter about. The last thing she wanted to do was spend time listening to Simm's excuses again. Granted, he had been right about Moriarty, but she was still unbelievably pissed over being lied to. She just wasn't sure if it was because of the lie or because it came out of the first person she met on the outside, and one that she had trusted. A lot of her altruistic illusions had been shattered lately, and Simms had been a watershed moment after making it out of 101 alive. Cort was being forced to see and survive in shades of grey when she was at heart a black and white kind of person. It didn't mean that she couldn't compromise to come to a solution, but when it involved bending her sense of right and wrong it was infuriating, particularly when she went ahead and did it anyway for personal benefit.

Bothering her now was the feeling that her moral spectrum was shifting. She was experiencing a dark sort of mirth with a maddening regularity every time she started killing things. It had been alarming enough when brought on by stress, but now she was starting to enjoy it. It was starting to feel _right_. There hadn't been any more mental snaps since Dogmeat had found her, and Crow had made her feel the closest to normal she had been since the last evening in the Vault, but she felt with a sinking certainty she would never be shut of them entirely. Something irreplaceable had broken.

"Cort? Arrangements have been completed to my satisfaction. It's time for me to move on to my next stop." Giving herself a little shake, Cort looked up at Crow, having lost herself for a while. Standing behind him was a middle-aged woman with a shaved head, combat armour and a wicked looking assault rifle.

"Sorry, daydreaming. You found someone then?" Pulling herself up, she knocked the dust from her legs as Dogmeat rolled over and started panting.

"Yes, this is Marion, a retired mercenary. She came highly recommended by Sheriff Simms, and should prove to be quite sufficient for my humble needs."

Cort held out a hand. "Hi Marion. I'm Cort." She got a brutal squeeze and pump before the other woman let go. Hiding her hand behind her thigh, she wiggled the fingers to get the blood back into them and made a polite smile.

"Yo. Pleasemeetcha."

Crow turned back to her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "May the spirits of the wind guide you to your rightful path Cort. Which will include seeing me again, if I am blessed. You are a good companion." Cort tilted her cheek over onto one of his hands.

"Back at you Crow. I'll see you when I see you."

Letting go, Crow paused to rub Dogmeat's ears back and forth, then slapped the Brahmin into motion and headed into the Wasteland, Marion trailing behind. _She's in my spot. I finally found another spot and I have to give it all up again. Thanks so much, Dad._ Cort sat back down with an arm around her dog and watched until the caravan was entirely gone from sight.


	14. Huffs and Heat

**Simms** barked out a short laugh. The dog _was_ wearing clothes, what looked like a miniature version of the leather armour the girl had on. Cort finally pushed through the inner doors sometime after noon, banging her helmet against her leg and talking to the mutt at her side. Whatever she had been up to out there, it had sent her back leaner and meaner. The sack she had was loaded, and had to have at least 6 assault rifles tied down to it. Walking relaxed, loose and leggy, every few seconds Simms saw her eyes dart around. _Looking without looking. She's catching on_. _Wonder what else she's learned_. _Obviously how to shoot straight_. Putting aside his wool-gathering, he stepped out in front of her.

"Miss Cort. I just needed to have a few words with you over some things I didn't have a chance to discuss before you lit out last month."

Cort stiffened and stared at him, readjusting her pack. "Well I was in a rush to make up for lost time after some misdirection slowed me down. What's up?" Simms chose to ignore the barb and carried on.

"Just some simple responsibilities that come along with living here. Pitching in if there's a large project going on like renovating or repairing the walls, buildings. Fighting off any serious outside threats if they appear, we've got an informal militia made up of a few residents for when things get hairy."

"So protect the town. Peachy. I can only do that on the occasions I'm around, and I will, but living here doesn't mean I'm going to be here. I'll be heading out again tomorrow morning after I finish my business with Moriarty."

Simms frowned opened his mouth. "You-"

"Need to be careful, yeah, yeah. I'm being as circumspect as I can be while being extorted. Lovely law enforcement you have in this town. Thanks for the chat, just yell if you need me." Cort turned and started jogging for her house before he could get another word out, the dog trailing behind. Watching her dart through the door and slam it, Simms sighed heavily. He could have hauled her back, but didn't feel like wasting his time watching another damn hissy fit.

"Town full of migraines. That's what I've got. And I just _had_ to add a pain in the ass to it."

* * *

**"Ugh**, asshole!" Cort walked across the main room and slung her pack down against the lockers. She was pretty sure she was being churlish, but didn't care. She had too much already on her plate to quibble over her manners. _I can be nicer later. After I find Dad._

"I beg your pardon, Madam? I am not nor do I have that particular orifice." Wadsworth putted down the stairs, sounding affronted.

"Not you, Wadsworth. I just had an unwanted and unpleasant conversation. I'm happy to see you!" Cort shook off her funk and grinned.

"Oh. Very well Madam. How may I assist you this afternoon?" He asked, sounding regularly cheerful again.

"The very same thing as last time I was in, purified water and my hair done over. It feels terrible." Cort rocked onto the balls of her feet and clapped happily. She'd been looking forward to this little bit of pampering for weeks. "I'll need two bottles of water though, one for me and Dogmeat. I have a dog now, see?"

Wadsworth produced the water while directing an eye stalk downwards to peer at the animal. "Just so, Madam. Good doggie, sit!" Dogmeat whuffed and sat up. "Very charming, Madam."

"Isn't he? Now if you could just arrange the things I brought back with me into the storage areas, I'll get the rest of myself cleaned up beforehand. I still have things I need to deal with today." Cort went to dig up a bowl for Dogmeat out of the kitchenette, then settled down to strip the leather and layers of grime from both of them.

Fresher, cleaner, and four hours later, Cort popped back out into the world, leaving Wadsworth muttering something about 'twice the hairballs'. After tidying up, she had changed into a pair of leather pants and a tank top she had gotten while out with Crow and only put the bandanna back on the dog.

"This is so much better, Dogmeat. Great as not getting easily mauled is, it's nice to feel like I'm not chafing to death." She grinned at the responding whuff and juggled a small bag of caps back and forth as she walked. "Now, we can get this nastiness over with, sleep in a _bed _tonight, and bounce out like bunnies tomorrow morning after the carrot formerly known as 'Dad'. Sound like a plan?"

"Whuff!"

* * *

**Cort** walked the long way around the crater. She could see Moriarty brooding over the railing again, and didn't want to come up from beneath him. _Ugh. Never think that again, girl. Ever._ Colin's eyes latched onto her the second she came around the corner of the bar. Well, latched onto part of her anyway. Cort crossed her arms over her chest and planted her feet.

"I'm up here."

"And so you are, lass. I was just admiring how well you'd gone...native." He turned around and leaned against the railing, smirking. Cort resisted the urge to pitch the bag at his face and plunked down the bag of caps, looking at him.

"Silver's dead. One hundred caps. Location please."

"My, aren't we brusque. Eager to get on with following in his footsteps are you?" Moriarty plucked the bag off the railing and started counting through it. "Fine, then, since it appears you've been a good girl for old Colin. Your father headed off to GNR in the city after picking up supplies he paid me to keep here. Said he had something important to do. What? Knowing your dear old dad, probably something idiotic and selfless for the good of all. Why? I don't care. Anything else you want to bother me with?"

Cort gave him a sarcastic grin. "No thanks, I'm just going to absorb some local colour inside and call it a night. Big things tomorrow."

"Bully for you, it's hot enough in there to fry the tits off a Brahmin. Keep your mutt from pissing on my bar."

Cort stepped inside and blinked experimentally. _Oh, much much better. Glad that's over with. It's always so damn dark in here._ Her refractory period had shortened considerably, and she could make out everything inside after a moment. There were only two people aside from Gob and Nova, and one of them was headed up the stairs with the redhead. The other was passed out in the far right corner, holding a beer. She could see the ghoul at the sink cleaning something, his back to the room.

Fiddling with the arm of her sunglasses, she decided to keep them on. People not being able to tell where she was looking was probably a useful advantage, and she was well accustomed to wearing them by now. _Thank goodness I blew off the bottom of my ear instead of the part I use. Wait, I'm happy I shot a chunk out of myself. Perfect._ She walked over to the corner of the bar and slung up into a stool, resting her chin on her palm. Dogmeat sniffed around the base and then collapsed under her, facing outwards and watching. The whole place felt practically comatose in the heat, and Cort comfortably daydreamed until Gob turned around and spotted her.

"Hi Gob. How's it going." Cort wiggled the fingers of the hand she was leaning on, too warm and relaxed to do anything else. She wasn't prepared for the wary look she got and widened her eyes into something resembling alertness. "What? I'm not going to hit you, or anything. At least not on purpose."

"So, you're back from doing Moriarty's dirty work?" Gob rasped out at her.

Cort pinched the line on her nose and closed her eyes. _Ah jeez_. "Gob, I don't do anyone's 'dirty work'. I do my own work."

Gob leaned over the edge of the bar and glared at her. "Is that what you told Silver before you killed her?"

_Ah jeeeez. Spoke louder out there than I thought_. Cort dropped her hand and looked at him for a moment, before leaning her head in close to his, hands folded together. Gob jerked back like his hair(what was left of it, anyway) was on fire. "Stop being foolish and get back over here." Cort hissed at him. Slowly, he complied. "So you were friends with Silver? Up here, Gob." He snapped his eyes back up to hers and she sighed. _What the hell do these turn into in a tank top, cornea magnets?_

"N-No but she was a nice person. To everybody." So nice to him then, Cort figured. No wonder he'd been pissed off. Nice was probably a rare commodity when you looked like a second-hand cadaver. She lowered her voice and leaned closer, almost bumping his forehead. Gob swallowed.

"Yeah, which includes me, after the frying pan incident."

"Frying pan?"

"Shush. Now isn't it better for everyone to think Silver is dead so no one, particularly an asshole Irishman, will want to go looking and _find _her?"

Comprehension slowly dawned on Gob. "Ooh. Gotcha." He looked at Cort sheepishly. "Sorry for jumping the gun on you."

"Not your fault. What the heck were you supposed to think? You heard what you heard, and let's face it, you don't know me from Eve. I'm just some klutz stranger that creamed you and disappeared like a month ago." She frowned. "I don't even think I told you my name. That's kinda rude."

"Oh I know it. Moira told me. She comes in some evenings and talks. A lot." Gob peeked over her shoulder at the door and then back at Cort. "I wanted to tell you before you left but I couldn't get your attention without Moriarty noticing me. He's got a terminal in the back room with lots of information on it. I thought maybe there'd be stuff about your Dad in there. I don't know how to get in it but they must've had lots of those things in a Vault, right?"

"Yeah, but it's okay, Gob. Really in the long run, I think I made out better running around than just going in a straight line."

"Sooo what did you do out there? Will you tell me?" He stared at her hopefully_. _

Sure, but what about you? You're the only ghoul I've ever met and I wanna know more. I'm younger right? Story-time for me first." Cort looked over the rim of her glasses and grinned.

* * *

**Gob's** heart leapt. He finally had someone to talk to again. There was still Nova, but she was getting more and more distant the farther she fell into using Jet. Moriarty rode her ass about it constantly, nobody wanted to hump a junkie, he'd say. Gob had asked her to stop, but she'd only given him a tired smile and told him it made the days go faster, and faster days meant out of debt with Colin sooner. He was pretty sure the only place she was going fast was dead and gone. He'd have to ask Cort later if she could do something for Nova like she did for Silver. Gob would be lonelier, but friends you didn't see were better than dead ones you didn't have. He could at least daydream about them out there, like he did about Cort now.

"Earth to Gob. Gob, come in."

_Cort._ She'd reached over and patted his arm, the _bare_ part, and she was still looking at him, sunglasses perched on the end of her nose, and oh sweet_ Jesus_ her eyes were pretty. Slate grey and soft. Gob coughed and pulled himself back together.

"Sorry, was just thinking about where to start. Where I'm _really_ from is this place called Underworld, down in DC..."

* * *

**After **hearing about how Gob was enslaved after leaving his mother Carol and the ghoul city behind, eventually ending up as Moriarty's chattel, Cort was nauseated. She had a good idea from her experience with Silver to conclude that Gob working to 'pay off his debt' would extend far beyond whatever Moriarty had actually paid for him. Like decades. He had been here for well over one already.

_No wonder he grasped at any sign of kindness_, Cort thought. _He probably would have offed himself before now if not for the blind hope__. He's like an abused animal. I have to get him out of here somehow, but how, how, oh God. Christ don't laugh, not now, he'll think it's about him. _ Gob hauled out a bottle of Nuka-Cola for her as she started to hiccup.

"Drink this and try to burp while holding your breath." Gob levered the cap off on the edge of the bar and handed the bottle to her as she dug into a pocket. "Don't worry about it."

"Thanks, they'll go away soon." Cort grabbed the bottle cap and made a hard fist around it out of sight while she did as Gob suggested. She managed a burp just as the points cut through into her palm. She forced a small smile onto her face. "See? All better. Now it's my turn."

Cort tried to make her story as adventurous and innocuous as possible at the same time, leaving the darker bits out. The last thing she needed was to depress Gob any further. She told him about meeting Crow and Agatha's music and the sights along the way, and about finding Dogmeat(he had been positively delighted at this, and had come around the bar to pet the animal) and the fight with the Yao Guai.

"Is that how you lost part of your ear?" Dogmeat quietly whuffed under her chair as Gob asked this.

"Uh, well..."

Moriarty snapped from behind them and she jumped. "Gob! Just because she's missing parts doesn't mean you have a chance to drop yours off in her pants. Stop yattering and do yer job." The ghoul shut down immediately and shot back around the bar to the sink, while Cort shoved her glasses back up and spun around to face Moriarty.

_Well thanks, Captain Bringdown_. She lifted the Nuka bottle and wiggled it around before draining it empty. "He was. How much was this thing? I think I'm finished for the evening." Cort resigned herself to abandoning Gob for the moment. _Isn't this a laugh. Who does this remind you of, girl?_

"Twenty caps, and I'm sure you were going to pay before leaving like a good lass." Cort dug the contents of her pockets out and piled most of the caps onto the bar. The price was definitely inflated; after living around a trader for a month she knew the basic rates for just about everything common. She made a note to figure out how to get her pound of flesh back before slipping off the stool and past him, not breaking eye contact. Gob scurried over to pull the money into the till.

Leaning against the doorjamb, she waited for Dogmeat to catch up. "Why of course Colin, don't you trust me? I'm just like my father." Cort tipped a lazy salute at Gob and was gone.


	15. Back on Track, Flat on Back

**The** next morning after stopping into Moira's and the clinic to trade for more supplies, Cort and Dogmeat headed out towards downtown DC. Wadsworth had their armour clean by the time they got back from Moriarty's, so Cort had spent the time before bed rigging up a set of pouches for the dog to carry ammunition in, along with a spare 10mm pistol. Her original one sat on her hip, a combat knife in one boot, and an assault rifle strapped down next to her baseball bat.

"We're loaded for bear, Dogmeat! Who's Momma's little soldier?" Dogmeat barked and lifted his head higher, panting as he walked. "That's right! Now, let's see...my Pip-Boy's plotting us to a Metro station in the East, somewhere past the Super-Duper Mart. I'll have to explore that on the way back, I'll be gone too long to carry around stuff for Moira." She hummed and tapped her tongue on the front of her teeth. "It's on the caravan route the entire way, so it shouldn't be too dicey until we get to the Underground. Crow said the northern roads were more dangerous than usual, so down here should be easier on us."

* * *

**Dicey** was an understatement. Cort was practically playing Yahtzee, but with more gore. While in the dark. Getting in to the Metro hadn't been a problem, there was nothing big until right after crossing the river. There she had seen her first Super Mutants tearing it up with a group of raiders; the raiders had been obliterated, and she was able to finish off the remaining mutant by flinging grenades from behind a retaining wall. She crept over after it had stopped twitching to examine the pieces.

"Christ, these things are like Mary Shelley's wet dream." After Cort had gathered up anything useful, she spent some time slicing into different chunks, poking at things with the end of her knife. "These things are all sorts of messed up inside, Dogmeat. It's like someone took a person and put them through an irradiated blender. I'm not even sure what this is doing over here." Pointing to a mass of nerve clusters, Dogmeat trotted over to look. She then poked a purple oblong inside the torso. "I'm not even sure what that _is_! I mean it's not like anything out here is normal anymore, but everything else we've killed has had vaguely the right things in approximately the right spots." She wiped the goo off her knife on one of the raider's shirts and headed for the Metro entrance, a worried look on her face.

Once inside, things rapidly and spectacularly went to hell. For one thing, the screeching was freaking her the living daylights out of her. Stupidly, she had flicked on her Pip-Boy light when it started to get dim and three feral ghouls had zoned in on her immediately.

"Aww, _crap_." Cort ripped her assault rifle free and started firing at the one in the middle while Dogmeat knocked over the closest and latched onto its face. She blew hers apart in time for the last one to slam her to the floor, snapping teeth towards her head. "Crap! _Crap crap CRAP_! _DOGMEAT_!" Grabbing onto the feral's neck with one hand and a flailing arm with the other, Cort squeezed as hard as she could and tried to get her legs up and under its torso. "Oh God you _stink_!" This was way worse than Gob had smelled. That had been almost comforting, in a weird way; it reminded her of specimen dissections with her father. This, this was just pure _rotten_. Suddenly Dogmeat darted in, sinking his teeth into her assailant's skull, killing it. She had a moment of euphoria before rancid blood started dribbling over her neck. "Oh _God _now _I stink_."

Staggering up and slatting the ooze off herself with the edge of her hand, Cort looked down at her dog. "Thank you. Now let's clear the rest of these bastards out as fast as humanly possible." She flicked out her light and peered forward into the decrepit labyrinth. "Stealth. Stealth is good, let's practice that."

The rest of the day was spent glued to the walls from the Farragut West Metro to Chevy Chase North, backtracking every few hundred feet to scavenge the areas they had already cleared of hostile creatures. Cort had found some choice supplies and was particularly pleased by nearly half a dozen magazines on different topics, and made a note to come back and examine the deactivated Protectron she found. She had also noticed graffiti including GNR and arrows when she was thrown against a train car, and started following the directional markers after killing the feral who put her there. That slip up had cost her a nasty bite on the wrist before Dogmeat had latched onto the thing's ass and distracted it. It ached like a bastard, but she didn't want to waste a Stimpak on such a superficial wound. _At least it's not my dominant hand. I am _so _ready to get out of here._

After making it to the entrance gate and pausing to eat part of a mole rat Dogmeat had flushed from a side office, they emerged back to the surface. Cort quietly whistled after they had topped the stairs and ventured into the wreckage.

"Cripes Dogmeat, look at this place. It's shattered. How are we supposed to-"

"I FOUND YOU!"

Yipping, Cort hit the dirt, pistol in hand. Where ever that bellow came from it was close, and what it came out of was another Super Mutant who was bearing down on Cort. Wonderfully, he had brought a friend. The next voice was even closer.

"Get UP, you idiot!" Looking up, she spotted a blonde woman around her own age wearing heavy armour. "Move! NOW!" Grabbing hold of Dogmeat, Cort skittered over a mound of debris and landed next to her. "Now stay the hell out of my way."

Gaping, Cort watched several other figures pop out of the landscape and start firing on the mutants, obliterating them within less than a minute. _Jesus Christ, is that a mini-gun over there? It _pulped _that thing. _The blonde turned to her when both were down.

"Now what the hell do you think you're doing out here? It's bad enough trying to keep the new recruits alive, we don't need strays running around where they don't belong. Seriously, how did you make it this far inside if you fucking duck when a Super Mutant yells at you?"

Cort blushed hard and snarked at her. "The horseshoe up my ass. Who the hell are you people?"

"Christ, where did you come from, under a rock?"

"Out of a Vault, actually, so pardon me if I'm not one hundred percent up to speed."

"Oh that's just _perfect_. Short version: I'm Sarah Lyons, this is Lyon's Pride, we're the Brotherhood of Steel. We're the ones that keep scrubs like you from decorating the landscape with your guts. Right now we're heading in to reinforce our garrison at the GNR building, which is being run over by more of those over-sized green assholes. You can either come along or crawl back into your hidey hole, either way. Just don't do anything else stupid to get yourself killed." With that, she turned and started stalking off into the ruins with the others. Cort looked down at her dog.

"Well Dogmeat, at least now we've got an escort." She got up and started following Sarah, still talking to him. "You heel, okay? I don't want you attacking the mutants, unless they're on top of me. You could get hit." Dogmeat whuffed and tucked in beside her.

Sarah had already lost a member of her squad, and didn't seem impressed by the state of affairs. Cort didn't have a high opinion of it either. They spent ages creeping through the destroyed buildings, and the damned Super Mutants were _everywhere_. Every time Sarah and her men eliminated one, two popped up in their place. Cort kept to the back, listening to them and learning their names and other information while trying to help. She had considered the assault rifle for a second and then dismissed it. The spread was too wide for the close quarters and she wasn't sure she wouldn't hit any of the Brotherhood. Leveling her 10mm with her right palm, she started aiming for heads. _Squeeze, move, repeat. Squeeze, move, repeat. Just like in your gun magazines, girl. _Cort grinned wider every time she saw a slug impact home. She had gotten very good at hitting what she wanted. It didn't do much, but anything that slowed the bastards down was a plus in her book. She even managed to blow one out of a second story window with a grenade.

Sometime around dusk, the group pushed through into a wide plaza. After mowing down the last of the mutants, Sarah strode towards the sandbagged staircase at the far end, calling up to the other Brotherhood Knights still alive there. The others ranged around the area and took up different cover positions. Cort unobtrusively wandered to and fro, fooling with her Pip-Boy and sorting through bodies. Every so often she would surreptitiously slip different things into her sack or Dogmeat's pouches. She wasn't quite sure how these people divided spoils up, but since nobody was saying anything(or just not noticing), she took or scanned whatever caught her fancy and waited for Sarah to finish whatever she was doing. If there was anyone who knew who she would have to talk to about her father, it was probably Sarah. Cort had made it over to the centerpiece in the middle of the plaza to look at a particularly interesting weapon when Dogmeat started snarling. Dropping the broken rifle she had been dragging, she whipped her head around to look at him, eyes wide.

"Hey kid! What's wrong with the mutt?" One of the Paladins -Cort thought Kodiak, but who could tell for sure with the helmet- called over to her. Vargas shouted out then from the stairs.

"Initiate Reddin, get your ass back in position!" Dogmeat was positively slavering by now, and stalking towards where the Initiate was wandering.

Cort looked around wildly and then at Kodiak. "There's nothing wrong with him, there's something just plain _wrong_!" the Pride members who heard her jerked their heads up, scanning the ruins.

Sarah started walking towards her with Vargas. "What the hell is it now? Kodiak?"

"Something's spooked the animal. Maybe we should-"

"RUN!"

* * *

**Afterward**, Cort was never sure who had yelled. One second she had been hauling back Dogmeat, and the next she was screeching in pain at a fission sunrise. The cars piled up at the end of the plaza had exploded, and she had collapsed just in time to miss Initiate Reddin's head whizzing past her own.

"What the _fuck!_ I just got _over_ this shit!" It felt like glass had been driven into her eye sockets, and Cort patted around her face to ensure her sunglasses and visor were still on it and not in it when Sarah screamed.

"BEHEMOTH!"

_Oh God, why does that not sound good._ She watched a burning hulk go sailing overhead. _That doesn't look too fucking hot either._ Turning back towards the site of the explosion and seeing the cause of it, Cort was pretty sure she _had _pissed herself this time. The biggest Super Mutant she had ever seen was roaring and pushing through the last of the wrecks, bashing them out of the way like toys. The Brotherhood was piling shots into it, beams and slugs arcing out from everywhere. Laughing maniacally, she waved an arm at it.

"What the hell does it do, shit out the little ones?"

"Shut up and shoot, you idiot! No, not with that!" Sarah screamed over at her when she unslung her assault rifle. "Pick up the Fat Man! You're fucking _sitting _on it and the_ ammo!" _Cort stupidly looked down and pointed. "_Fuck YES you shithead, NOW DO IT!"_ Sarah unloaded another volley of energy blasts into the Behemoth after ducking away from a thrown boulder, and watched Cort rapidly spin through her Pip-Boy screens.

"_What the FUCK ARE YOU DOING_? Use it, you're the only one close enough and this bastard is pinning us all down!" Vargas yelled at her_.  
_

_"_I'm reading the_ FUCKING MANUAL."_

_"WHAAAT?" _Came in tandem out of both_.  
_

Cort giggled at that, hauled the weapon out from under her and staggered to her feet, grinning. This thing was _heavy_. "Well, here goes nothing! Let's see if I can hit the broad side of a Behemoth." She aimed and depressed the trigger, and nearly went off her feet again. Once the smoke had cleared, she could see a very injured and very pissed off mutant. More importantly, it could now definitely see her. It was seeing her a _lot_.

"Shit! Shit shit _shit_!" Cort scrambled backwards, clawing the ground for another Mini-Nuke and reloading. This explosion took her to her knees, and the thing was still coming closer. Eyes glued to the monster now most definitely bearing down on her, she flailed her hands around for another round. "Dogmeat, little help here!" Scuffling back as fast as she could, Cort loaded the bomb as soon as it was pressed into her palm and fired, laughing like a loon. She woke up twenty feet away with the dog on her chest and most of the squad and Sarah staring down at her.

"Holy shit kid, you may just be all right. Batshit, but all right. You killed it."

Cort's groan floated up from their feet. "I think I killed me."

* * *

_The Fallout world deviated from ours after the conclusion of WWII. Yahtzee was first marketed in 1956, and since it's a simple game with older roots, it's plausible that it was invented in Cort's world as well, since the differences occurred exponentially. Plus, it was a really fun line to write._


	16. Set Up and Knocked Down

**Staring** across at Three Dog talking into a mic, Cort decided she was in a class-A mess. Kodiak had deposited her in a chair upstairs. Sarah had directed him to carry her when it was clear walking in a straight line and not falling wasn't going to happen.

"You know kid, this would be a lot easier if you'd just put that thing down." Kodiak nodded at the Fat Man.

"Oh no, nonono. This thing is _awesome_." Cort hugged it and the Paladin just shook his head and hoisted her higher, tromping up the stairs. Someone else had picked up Dogmeat when they noticed he was limping, and placed him in front of Cort when she was settled.

Slumping over one armrest, she was buzzed out of her skull on Med-X and had a strong desire to throw up on her boots from the two bags of Rad Away draining into her arm. She was also unbearably itchy from several Stimpaks. Thankfully none of it was her own stuff, the Brotherhood had medical supplies, but Cort thought it still would have been nice to be able to tell everyone 'no thanks, leave me ticking, the radiation will patch it right up'. _Nice until I get shot in the head for being a zombie, anyway. Or at least looked at like I'm turning into filth...or a specimen._

She peered down at Dogmeat, his own IV bag sitting on top of him. The medic had started to leave when he'd finished up with her.

"Hey wait. Treat the dog, too." He paused, looking at her like she was nuts. Cort made a face.

"Okay, that's really getting old. And saying that out loud just now didn't help me any, so let's just skip ahead to where you treat my friend."

"Do it. The mutt's the only reason we had any warning at all for that Behemoth." Sarah came in and leaned against the wall, watching the medic shake his head and get to work. "Three Dog will come over to talk to you once he's finished with his broadcast. Your father came through here for sure, one of the Knights downstairs has been posted for about a month and remembers him."

Cort lolled her head around to look at her. "Thanks, Sarah. Any idea where he went after that?"

"Unfortunately, no. Aside from being polite, he didn't say anything to anyone except Three Dog, and there's no way to guess which exit he took from this zone." The medic finished up with Dogmeat and left the room, Sarah following after a moment. "We're heading back to the Citadel now, since things here are secure for the moment. I hope you're lucky enough to see me again." Cort listened to her clatter down the stairs, and turned her attention back to Three Dog.

_So this is what I'd hear if this station was something other than crappy static out there._ She idly listened to the man talk about the 'Good Fight', give bad jokes and survival tips, before finally flicking onto a song and spinning around to face her.

"Look on your face says it all kid, you're wondering who the heck I am and why should you care." Spreading his arms, he got up and walked towards Cort, who tilted her head up. She was fairly certain the only look on her face was one of drugged apathy. _Oh God let's just cut to the chase, or I'll have my ears talked off. Ear and a half.  
_

"One, you're Three Dog. You run this station, which so far sounds like a better brand of propaganda than that Enclave shit. Two, I care because my father James came here, and talked to you, and you know where he's gone."

Three Dog looked at her appraisingly. "Whoo, I think you just cut me girl. You're pretty sharp for someone recently out of a Vault."

"I'm naive, not stupid." Cort leaned forward to hide her face and started pulling the IV needles from her arm and Dogmeat's leg, the bags emptied. She was getting very close to losing it again. "Now, can you please tell me where my father went?"

"Yeah, sure I can. He and I had one nice long talk; he's got his fight, I've got mine. I laid out for him what he's been missing underground, cat heard me on the radio and decided here was a good place to get a bead on things."

"Think maybe you could fill me in on the particulars then? Because I seriously have no clue what the hell is going on out here, and Dad didn't exactly leave me that great of a note." She ran her fingers over the top of her Pip-Boy while Three Dog talked about his 'Good Fight' and the Brotherhood, and all the lions and tigers and bears that were out there. Cort hadn't been able to listen to her father's recording after the first time. _Best for me not to know. Sure. Trying to find out what happened and where you are has been the best thing ever. _She looked back up as the DJ started winding down.

"So that's the long and short of it kid." Three Dog looked at her expectantly. "Questions?"

"...Father?" Any mention of James outside of what Three Dog had told him was conspicuously absent. Cort had a bad feeling that she knew what this meant.

"Well we got a rule here in the Good Fight. You want help, you give help!" He smiled while she silently cursed.

"That's pretty much a rule for everywhere out here." She pinched her nose and dove in. "So what is it you need me to run off and try to die doing?"

"Hey hey, don't be so down and out. You made it this far." He waved an arm around the room. "You can make it a little farther for the good of everyone out there. Some Super Mutant had fun with my broadcast relay, 'let's shoot the shiny metal thing' and shit. All I've been able to put out past DC has been static for a month."

"I see where this is going. I'm pretty sure mortal peril is still involved here."

"Well yeah, and you're right. There's only one place you can find a replacement for that dish anymore, and it's in Mutant central. Right smack on the Mall in a museum down there. There's one attached to an old lunar lander. I need you to get that dish and repair the broadcasting antenna on top of the Washington Memorial." He crossed his arms and sighed. "Look kid, I don't mean to shit on you, but this station is my baby, and way too important to the people scrabbling to exist out there. I told you, I'm the only voice there is, aside from that tinpot Eden. You help me with this, I help you, and maybe grease wheels for you with any good folks who happen to listen to me. If you're anything like your Daddy, you can get it done."

Cort rested her forehead on her hand and bit her lip. She was getting so damned _tired_ of this nightmare game of hide and seek. Dogmeat put his head on her thigh and whined. "Alright. Just give me the map markers. I'll need to sleep here for the evening and leave a cache of my stuff behind if that's alright with you. I can't carry this bomb launcher around underground."

"Whoo whee girl, knew I could count on you. Now, let's see that little wrist wonder of yours, and we'll set you up." Cort pulled on Dogmeat's scruff, twisting the fur between her fingers. _I'm set up, alright. I wonder how far down I'll get knocked this time._

_

* * *

_

**Cort** spent the early morning scouring over the plaza for anything useful she had missed. One nice thing about the Brotherhood, or at least the helmets, was that they didn't appear to be bothered when she started slicing the remains of the Behemoth's head open. Wanting a closer look inside the things and deciding it would be a long while -forever if she had any say in it- before she saw another one this big, she took time to dissect the brain apart.

"Whatever this is, it's bad, Dogmeat." Cort was eating an apple and looking down at the brain slices she had laid out, spitting out every other bite to feed to him. " I mean it's obviously bad, but it's bad in a 'I think someone made these' bad." Tossing him the core, she slung her knapsack on. "Let's get going before Momma breaks her foot off in a DJ's ass." Dogmeat trailed her back through the building, mouthing his treat on the way to the rear door. It opened into what had been more offices, but the side of it was now blasted away, and opened down to a road with the tunnel service entrance she was looking for.

Scrabbling down the back of the building had been easy, and there had been only one feral outside to take care of. Cort shot its head into pulp before dropping down, catching Dogmeat when he jumped.

"Oof! Heavy boy. Let's go kill some more of those nasty ferals huh? Would you like that?" She hugged him and buried her face into his fur before setting him down, sliding through the service door into the underground. There were definitely more in here, Cort could hear them breathing, and the stench was unmistakable. She crouched and assessed her options. There was a bus across one side of the tunnel, and the cars up the other made it a bottleneck. Cort smiled. Easy pickings with the rifle and the grenades. She had plenty after scavving the plaza. Looking down at Dogmeat, she motioned him to stay.

"Okay, honey, speak!" Cort leveled her rifle at the opening as the dog started to bark. She shrugged and then started barking with him as the first ferals started screeching. _What the hell, live a little. _"Whoof! Whoooroooooo! HAH!" Opening fire, she mowed down the first wave, and then sent a grenade flying as more appeared in the opening, Dogmeat continuing to yap his head off.

"This is working great! I've already gotten a ton with just one frag grenade and not too many bullets and hey that bus is on fire now, fuck, FUCK GET DOWN!" Cort slammed into Dogmeat and curled herself around him just as the bus went up in flaming glory, setting all the cars behind it off like dominoes. Feeling like she was burning from the inside out with each breath, a flush ran up her spine as she hugged the dog harder and screamed. She finally uncurled and sat up when his licking her face got through to her.

"I'd like to stop doing stuff like that." Cort hiccuped and pulled Dogmeat over again to cuddle, pushing her helmet off. "At least all the ferals are dead now." Brightening, she ran a shaky hand over her head, then stopped, puzzled. "What..." Her hand went back and forth harder. "...My HAIR. Oh God MY HAIR'S OFF."

* * *

**"Goddamn** brain-eating caterwauling bastards." Cort noted that any dislike she had for the things attacking her was getting very efficient at developing into full-scale vendettas. Sliding through into Dupont station, she reflected on her new appearance as a scorched rooster. Cort had liked her hair. Annoying to take care of, sure, but long hair meant that the tendency for it to flare up was mitigated by the weight. She had spent an agonizing six months after her 16th birthday getting crowed at by Butch and his friends when she had decided to get a haircut, and had vowed never to go back to it again. It wasn't as traumatizing as sucking gore off a dismembered limb, really, but damnit it took _forever _to grow in and it wouldn't stay down.

Voices floated over to her and she froze. There were Super Mutants and a Protectron in one of the offices to her left. Having no desire to get involved in whatever the hell was going on(although it sounded like kicking the robot was involved), she grabbed Dogmeat and eeled around the corner then down the tunnel, checking her Pip-Boy for more hostiles. All she wanted to do was get the stupid dish, install it, and get back to GNR and find out where to go next. She was beyond hoping that where ever it was, she would find her father there. She had spent a month making herself capable enough to get this far, and he had certainly moved on again by now if things held true to form. All she could do was keep going, and lean on her friend if she discovered the worst. Glancing at Dogmeat after thinking of him, she stopped. He had his head up in the air currents coming down the tunnel, sniffing. Cort tilted her good ear up and listened. Voices.

"Rollo, you shitbag. You drank the last fucking beer."

"Up yours, Knuckles, I'm the one who scragged that scavenger for them."

Raiders. Only raiders could have such stupid goddamn names and shining attitudes. Cort pulled her rifle free and then paused, smiling and looking back down the tunnel. She had a _wonderful_ idea.


	17. Will the Real LW Please Stand Up

_Shout out to my reviewers, you guys are awesome! Word on abbreviations, MoT is Museum of Technology, MoH, Museum of History._

* * *

**It **had worked perfectly. After consulting quietly for a few moments, Dogmeat had run in and bitten the nearest raider while Cort had screamed at the Super Mutants. Whirling, both of them ran pell-mell through the dark towards a collapsed section of tunnel wall she had found, diving into it. It had almost been like watching an adventure film on Mr. Brotch's big screen as both groups slammed together. Cort had had great fun popping up and yelling "Surprise!" at the last raider cheering over the downed mutants before shooting the top of his head off. Taking out the security turrets afterward had almost been like a game, she was riding on such a high. The rush only increased when she crawled out of the raider's camp and into Metro Central. The place was _huge_. She wasn't sure how many stories were in it, but it was practically an underground cathedral, platforms and escalators running everywhere. Cort had never seen anything so big. Fighting through level by level, she clashed against more ferals, raiders and vicious dogs, sometimes sneaking and sometimes using Dogmeat to draw them out to her. In between everything, she scavenged.

"Well Dogmeat, we're putting out more medical supplies than we're getting back, but we're almost there if the markers are right." Dogmeat whuffed, climbing an escalator beside her. Cort paused, looking around. "Wait. That thing there isn't supposed to be there. Wait, are we at where we actually are? Oh, _no_."

Getting lost more than once, Cort had to backtrack over and over again to find the Brotherhood markers Three Dog had told her about. She was comparing the map she had downloaded to the one on the wall(nothing matched up right, the distances were all out of whack on her Pip-Boy) when she heard her name.

"Hey, Cort!" Whipping her head and rifle around, she saw a small armoured group heading towards her, and looked at them askance.

"Yeees?"

"It's her. Open fire!"

"WHAT?" She flung herself to the side, spraying them with bullets and narrowly missing a shot to the gut. Her side lit up on fire. _Thank God I got in the habit of having this thing out instead of stuffed up my ass. Christ from now on if anyone asks if you're you, say no, idiot._ "Dogmeat, sic em! Rip them up!" The dog snarled and launched himself at the one who had spoken to Cort, laying his arm open. He shrieked. "Serves you right, motherfucker!" Running, Cort smashed the butt of her rifle into the face of the nearest one to her, feeling a slug hit her leg. She grunted and ducked, hauling her knife out, plunging it into the man's knee then stabbing him over and over as Dogmeat flew raging at the last of them. Laughing, she scrambled over and buried it into the screaming woman's throat while the dog savaged an arm.

"Now what, the fuck, was that about." Cort hissed and then listened carefully for a while. If there was anything else in here, they weren't coming at her. She dug her lantern out of her bag and flicked it and her Pip-Boy light on to examine her leg and side. "In and out, thank you, thank you." Jamming a Stimpak into herself, she called Dogmeat over. There was only a single slug to pick out, and a whole lot of grazes. "Lucky, lucky boy. Now let's see what these jerks have on them after Momma can stand up again."

* * *

**What** they had, aside from some very nice combat armour Cort was more than happy to strip from them, including taking spare plates to upgrade Dogmeat's apparel, were a couple Chinese assault rifles and a baton. Positively crowing, she happily gutted one rifle to repair the other. Cort decided to settle onto one of the nearest platforms and spent the evening fixing her new armour and fussing over Dogmeat's.

"There, little bit heavier, but much much better. You've got plates over everything important in there. So do I!" Rolling him over, she tickled his belly, laughing as he mouthed at her wrists and yipped. "Let's see what those scrubs had to eat, huh?" Cort upended the last bag and dug through the mess. "Cram, surprise, surprise. And a sticky note. Ugh, this better have leaked out of the Cram." Popping the can open, she shook half of it out for the dog and ate her own chunk as she read.

"' Talon Company Contract: Find Cort and show how we treat people that fail to live up to Mr. Tenpenny's expectations. Do not fail me. You know what will happen if you arouse my displeasure. B.' And a description of me. Threat level, minimal? Hey! I've gotten better, thank you very much. Wasted your asses." Cort frowned, puzzled. There wasn't any reason she could think of for mercenaries to be after her. She hadn't been out here that long, and hadn't done anything really significant enough to warrant attention.

"B, who the fuck is B and what did I do to...oh _crap_." Cort groaned and grabbed her head in both hands. "Dogmeat it's that lecher from Megaton, it has to be. I don't know very many people out here, and only one 'B', and he's the only one I know of that I pissed off for sure."

Reaching down she grabbed a handful of rubble and started scrubbing at the insigina painted on her armour, then tucked her sunglasses carefully into a pocket. "I don't need to look like a damned mercenary while I'm running around out here, and we'll change the rest of it." She hiccuped. "At least my hair's already done, and they don't know about you yet, according to this. Or my helmet, or the ear." Cort started ripping apart a spare knee guard and mounted it over the top of her Pip-Boy. "There. Not perfect, but it's better than nothing. Let's get some shuteye honey, and then we can make a nice cache out of everything extra." Cort crawled behind a debris pile to the back of the platform, pulling a metal panel over both of them, then cuddled up to Dogmeat and slept.

* * *

**Willow** was having a bang-up day. First she had avoided Talon Mercs oozing down into the Metro. They weren't gutsy enough to attack Underworld, but they'd take pot shots at her if she let them see her. Then she avoided pot shots from the Brotherhood. Half the time she didn't even bother to dodge anymore, since she was sure they were doing it out of boredom like she did with radroaches, a depressingly accurate motivational comparison. She couldn't even remember the last time they'd actually hit a ghoul, as long as they weren't stupid enough to approach the tin cans.

Around late afternoon she heard an uproar across the Mall, somewhere near the MoT, and wondered if the Mercs were getting into it with the Super Mutants. They were doing that a lot lately, which Willow was one hundred percent in favour of, as long as it was the hell away from their side of the Mall. Sure, the mutants didn't _bother _them, as long as they stayed out of their territory, but that didn't mean that it wouldn't be nice to have less of each party overall. Leaning over the side of the Metro station entrance, Willow chain smoked and waited for anything to come by. Anything came from below sometime around supper.

Looking down when the gate creaked, Willow saw someone hitching and wheezing out of the Metro.

"Fucking stupid stomping giant boogers." Someone pissed off hitching and wheezing out of the Metro, then. The ghoul unslung her rifle and idly watched the person -a female smoothskin- hobble up the stairs, followed by a dog. A dog wearing clothes, at that. Both of them were wearing a mish-mash of Talon Company armour, with the insignias scraped off. Willow decided to speak up before they got on level ground.

"You doing okay there, tourist?" She watched the girl's shoulders hitch up in surprise before she continued to hop up the stairs, dragging on the handrail. There were bloody spatters trailing behind her.

"Just peachy today. And you?" Making it to the top step, she flung an arm over the barrier surrounding the stairwell and started moving towards Willow. The dog was pacing beside her, not taking its eyes off her face.

"Well, I'm not bleeding out all over the concrete. What's your business in Underworld?" As fascinating as this could be, Willow had to decide whether or not to shoot them before they got too close. The amount of blood made her fairly sure the girl wasn't playing possum, but then you never could tell these days.

" I found it? Oh thank Christ. I'm looking for a doctor. I'm too torn up to fix all of this shit myself." Gesturing, the girl nearly fell over, then looked at Willow. "Please tell me you've got one."

"Yeah, we do. Just go straight through two sets of doors that way, and behave yourself, tourist. Keep the dog in line too."

"Thanks, uh." She wiped the blood off her hand and held it out.

"Willow." Willow stared at the hand and did nothing.

Dropping her hand, the kid sighed. "Thanks Willow. I'm Cort. This is Dogmeat."

Willow watched the kid stagger towards the door and considered helping, then dismissed the idea. The girl had made it that far, hadn't asked, and Willow had her own duties to take care of. Turning around, she popped another match and went back to smoking.

* * *

**Cort** shuffled through the doors and leaned panting against them for a moment, then gasped.

"Dogmeat, look in there! A mammoth! And a dinosaur! Just like in my books, this is awesome!" She reached up to clap and grimaced, grabbing her sides. "Okay, so not as awesome as it could be. Oh God, I hurt." Barking out a few wet coughs she made an effort to straighten up.

Emerging from the MoT Metro station, Cort had gotten sloppy rushing to find the dish. She hadn't made it more than fifty feet through the museum doors before a brute of a Super Mutant came down on her like a ton of irradiated shit. Screaming at Dogmeat to run after it had flung him into a wall, Cort had made it back into the Metro after blinding it momentarily with a pistol shot to the face. Unfortunately, it had also shot her, and gotten in one hell of a blow to her right calf with a sledge.

Using up the last of the Stimpaks on Dogmeat, Cort pumped herself full of Med-X and started scrabbling towards the other end of the station, wobbling under her pack. "Come on, Gob said Underworld was around here, and they should still have a doctor, they live long enough. I can't get these bullets out by myself. I'm not even going to try fooling around with my leg." Giggling, she jerked along the walls. "At least we've already slaughtered everything in here."

She had nearly jumped out of her skin after coming topside and hearing someone speak, relaxing after she recognized it as a ghoul. Cort had been mildly disappointed at how cool she had been, but couldn't really be surprised after what she had observed at Moriarty's. She had gotten spectacularly lucky with Gob, or Gob with her, depending on how you wanted to look at it. Lurching past the entrance desk to the atrium, Cort continued her path towards the far doors, which were capped by a giant skull. This was definitely the place. She dimly noticed that Dogmeat was circling her and whining.

"Shush Dogmeat, you want to behave when we meet new people. You know, people that aren't trying to kill us. Yet." She held the door open for him and followed the dog inside, both of them sniffing in the draft. This was better. This smelled like Gob, only stronger.

Cort stopped stock still in the entry way. There were twin staircases flanking either side of the long main room, and larger rooms on the far end, past a huge statue made of writhing figures. There were also a lot of just standing figures, she noted. _Wow. Lot of ghouls. Whole lot of ghouls._ At least a dozen heads had turned around to look at her and the dog. Apparently smoothskins were rare enough to be a novelty, or at least ones that were bleeding on the floor. A ghoul in faded blue coveralls came over towards her as Cort hitched farther into the room.

"Holy crap, smoothskin. You look like you've gone through a wringer." He had a fairly concerned look on his ruined features, and Cort felt better, at least in spirit.

"I look worse than I feel." She balanced on her good leg and held out her hand again. "I'm Cort. The woman out front said you had a doctor in here."

Looking at her oddly, the ghoul reached out and shook her hand. "Winthrop. I keep this place running, or at least from falling apart entirely. The doc's at the far end of the hall, in the Chop Shop, you can't miss it. You sure you can make it down that far?" Cort squinted, trying to see him clearly. It was getting dim in here, and while comforting it made it damned hard to see.

"Yeah sure, I made it this fuh-" Dissolving into racking coughs, Cort sprayed the front of Winthrop's overalls in bright crimson before going down on one knee, Dogmeat's wails following her into darkness.


	18. Interlude in Underworld

_Hurrah to my reviewers and new favourites, you guys are the reason I'm still writing! Named one of the cranky NPC ghouls here for dramatic effect.  
_

* * *

**Winthrop** blinked reflexively as bloody spray flicked into his eyes. "Oh yech, kid, cover your...kid? Oh, damnit." Winthrop wiped the blood off his face and reached down to the figure crumpled at his feet. The dog was going absolutely ballistic, pawing at his legs and leaping away again. "Yeah pooch, I get it. Carlo! Come here and get her other end." Winthrop looked over to the closest ghoul as he shook Cort loose of her pack and started dragging her towards the Chop Shop, leaving a red smear behind.

"No way, I'm not touching it. It's leaking."

"Oh for _fuck's_ sakes Carlo. Then go get Tulip and get her down here. _Faster_ than that." Winthrop snapped at him as he started sauntering towards Underworld Outfitters, Tulip's supply shop. The little woman came running out a moment later. One thing you could count on from Tulip aside from helping was the fact that she was never too busy not to. "Tulip! Get her legs will ya?"

Together, the two ghouls manhandled the girl though the doors to the clinic and swung her onto a gurney, Doc Barrows coming over, his brows scrunched together.

"Well someone's had some fun today." He started peeling the armour off her, motioning for Nurse Graves to come over. "Graves, start up an IV pole with a blood pack and get the instruments ready. There's at least 3 holes in this girl."

Winthrop turned around when the doors opened, and watched the dog drag in the kid's pack. "She managed to make it all the way inside and then dropped like a ton of bricks. Her name's Cort."

Barrows pushed off Cort's helmet and firmly patted her face. "Cort. Hey Cort, can you hear me? She's totally out, probably a blessing for her. What the hell? Where'd the mutt come from?" He balanced on one leg as the dog crept under the gurney. "Get it the hell out of here, and go with it. I'm going to need the room clear."

Winthrop reached for the animal and jerked back when it snarled and firmly wrapped its mouth around one of the gurney's supports, clamping down. A steady growl rose up out of it as it stared at him. "Doc, I don't think I wanna try it. It's hers, and it definitely doesn't want to go."

Barrows pressed a hand down onto Cort's bleeding shoulder, swearing. "Fine, but you two leave. Now. I don't have time to fight with the furball or deal with a wrestling match." The sounds from the dog stopped.

"Doctor, there's severe blunt trauma to the right leg as well."

"Of course there is. Nurse, put..." Winthrop listened to their voices drop to a murmur as he closed the door behind Tulip and himself, plucking at his jumpsuit and sighing. _Well, it's no worse than anything else I crawl through in the ducts. It'd have to be my last clean one, of course._ Waving thanks at Tulip, he headed back to work.

* * *

**"Cort.** Cort, you have to calm down." The kid was moving around again. Doc Barrows had come over from the computer terminal where he had been sitting through most of the night, going over the blood samples he had thought it safe enough to take from the girl for his research. He had sent Nurse Graves to bed when the surgery had been completed. Every few hours the girl started writhing, but he was loathe to sedate her again considering the amount of drugs he had piled into her. Looking at how altered the readings on the blood were, he was positive he had used too many already. The dog was still firmly planted beneath the gurney, whining whenever she started to go off. He was seriously considering restraints when Cort stopped and opened her eyes.

"Cort?" Her eyes rolled onto his face, not registering anything. "Cort?" Barrows tried again.

"I have to get up."

"You can't Cort, you're hurt."

"No, I have to find him. He's gone, he left and it's my fault and he's gone and I have to find him. He's a doctor. He'll fix me. All of it."

"_I'm_ the doctor, Cort. I haven't gone anywhere. You're in the clinic, see?"

"Did I fall down the stairs again?"

"Something like that." He watched her eyes wander around. She still wasn't really seeing. _Probably shocky as hell._ Barrows concluded. _Who wouldn't be after 4 bullets and a fractured leg. _Switching the IV to a new bag and spreading another blanket over her, he pulled her left arm out and examined her Pip-Boy. One convenient thing about injured Vault dwellers, they came with a health monitor already installed. Barrows started mildly when her left hand wrapped around his. She was definitely out of it if she didn't notice anything wrong with the way _that_ felt.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I didn't mean to be clumsy again. Don't leave, please. Please, Dad." _Oh, Christ. _Completely, ragingly out of it. _Kid's on the moon, she's so looped._ Barrows pulled a stool over and sat down as Cort's hand tightened almost painfully.

"I'm not going anywhere, Cort. I'm right here, and you can go back to sleep." He watched her shut her eyes and relax, still not letting go of him.

"You sound funny. Are you sick again?"

Barrows sighed heavily, running his free hand over his face._ Oh for the love of-_ "Yes, honey. I've got a cold. Now go to sleep."

Cort did.

* * *

**"Oh** my God, what the hell hit me. Wait. Giant boogers. Dogmeat?" Cort groaned and cracked her eyes open. She heard a whuff from the vicinity of her feet and jerked her head up, instantly regretting it. "Ow. This is getting depressingly familiar."

"Put your head back down. You're not ready to move around yet." A pink-haired ghoul woman in medical fatigues was coming over to her, Med-X in hand. "Want this? You're allowed to have another today if you need it."

Cort laid back again against the pillows and experimentally flexed, looking around the room. She was in a low bed against the middle of a wall. _Torso feels like shit, head feels like shit, leg's in a splint. Another wonderful installment of 'This is Cort's Life'._ "No, I don't think so. I feel horrible, but I don't think I should have any more, I don't need to get addicted to the stuff. How did I get in here? How long was I out? I need to take care of Dogmeat. Who are you?"

The woman held up a hand and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Well, the drugs have definitely worn off of your mouth. One thing at a time, human."

"Cort."

"Cort. I'm Nurse Graves. You got into Underworld on your own, and Winthrop and Tulip dragged you the rest of the way in here. Do you remember Winthrop?"

Flushing, Cort looked down and bunched the blankets in her hands. "Uh, he's the one I effused blood all over the front of. I need to apologize. I think I got him in the eye."

"Good, you've got no memory loss. I think he's gotten over it in the last four days, to answer your next question. He's also been looking after your dog, whenever he could coax him out from under the bed."

"I need to get up and get going. I have an errand to run."

"You're not going to be doing any running for another half a month, I'm afraid." Both women turned to look at the door as Doctor Barrows walked in, scribbling on a clipboard. Cort winced again from moving her head too fast. "If we hadn't been lucky enough to have a full stock of Stimpaks, you'd be down for at least three times that amount, and we're out now until Quinn gets back from trading." Walking over to the bed, he gave her an odd look. "What's the very last thing you remember?" Cort gave him an odd look back.

"Humiliating myself all over Winthrop. What kind of mess was my leg in, oblique fracture right? Incomplete?"

Barrows stared at her hard. "Yes, and several holes in the rest of you."

"So I can at least get around on a crutch then." She pointed to the corner and grinned flippantly. "Just like that one."

Barrows crossed his arms and frowned down at her. "Young lady, as your doctor, I can't recommend getting out of that bed."

"As your patient, I can be totally insufferable stuck in this bed. I'll go bonkers." Cort schooled her face into something resembling contrite. She couldn't afford to be sloppy again, and waiting was better than dying. She also didn't think asking for something dangerously irradiated to eat or soak in would go over like gangbusters either. "I promise I won't be clumsy. Pretty please, Dad?"

Both women looked at Barrows questioningly as he suddenly jerked. Ignoring it and composing himself, he nodded. "Fine, but not today. Tomorrow. And then only around the inside of Underworld, for the entirety of your recovery, and you come back here whenever you feel tired. If you bleed out on the floor, don't blame me."

"Deal."

* * *

**Cort** spent the next two weeks hobbling barefoot around Underworld with increasing efficiency, alternately charming or irritating the hell out of everyone. Graves had helped her dress in her tank top and leather pants after digging out the amount of caps she had owed for her treatment. Once she was ready to leave, Cort decided at least an additional day or two would be required to scavenge and sell things to any merchants to replace them.

After her crutch had been 'mysteriously' knocked out from under her for the second time, she made a point of only walking around whenever Winthrop, Barrows, Graves, Tulip or Carol was there to be tagged along with. She could have sicced Dogmeat on whoever had been doing it, his bristling at certain persons made it obvious he had noticed who they were. _Probably would not make the best impression on the people who _do _like me. Besides, not like it's the worst thing that's happened to date. Pft, by a longshot. So for now me and the dog will both roll over. _

She had met Carol after finally getting confident enough to tackle a flight of stairs, and was too tired to go farther than through restaurant's door. She was almost sent flying off her crutch again after asking the ghoul in the blue dress if she was 'Gob's Carol'.

"So heeey, I-guess-that-means-yes." Cort hugged the blonde woman back, closing her eyes and grinning like an idiot. Hugs were _good_. It had been forever since her last hug. After Carol let her go, Cort hopped backwards into a chair, Dogmeat flopping under the table next to it. Carol slid into the seat across from it and folded her hands on the table, positively glowing.

"So, tell me everything! I haven't seen my dear son Gobby in years. Where did you meet him, what is he doing?"

_Oh _crap_. Start omitting things, girl. Like slavery._ "I uh, ran into him in a settlement to the north and made friends after I moved into a house there. He works as a bartender, very safe. He made me promise to say hi if I ever found myself here."

"Oh, I was worried for so long after he left! I'm so happy he's successful out there. And making friends with pretty smoothskins, my!" she brightened even further and looked over Cort's shoulder. "Greta! You won't believe it, it's so wonderful. The new girl knows Gob!"

Blushing, Cort turned around and looked at the new ghoul staring at her and wiggled her fingers. _I don't get the wonderful feeling here. I get the 'I want to kill you with my brain' feeling. For mentioning Gob? Hm. Let's see if I can make it worse, then. _"Soo Carol. How would you like me to bring a nice fat letter back to Gob when I go home?" Cort turned back to her, smiling.

* * *

**"Where** are we going, Tulip?" Cort hopped after the redhead towards a section she hadn't explored yet. She had a copy of 'Paradise Lost' under one arm, and had squealed when the ghoul surprised her with it. She had spent a lot of time hanging out with Tulip after unloading all of the extra things in her pack for caps, since it didn't seem anyone actually needed(or wanted) things from her store. Cort could relate to being lonely.

"I'm gonna introduce you to Snowflake, kid. I don't know if you've noticed, but your hair's had a mishap at some point."

"Yeah, there was a thing. With a bus. And some exploding."

"Well whatever it was, we're going to get your hair done and make his day." She wiggled a finger in her ear canal as Cort squealed again.

"Haircut?"

Cort was happy and relaxed after spending the afternoon with Snowflake(and that was bizarre even for out here, a pyjama clad hair-dressing ghoul), who was ecstatic after being told by Cort to 'have fun with my head'. She had let him fool around for hours, reading her new book and chatting. Her hair was still too short for her liking, and had a tendency to flare into a crest if she even breathed too hard, but at least it was even and the melted chunks were out of it.

"There you go kid. Come back anytime, no charge."

"Thanks tons, Snowflake." She hobbled over to the entrance and looked towards the stairs. Greta was on one side, and Carlo was on the other. _Fantastic. Sunshine and Rainbows. And Sunshine will probably go back into Carol's if I decide to duck in there. Rainbows will just try to maim me._ Cort looked down at Dogmeat and sighed. "We can take 'em both boy, but do I really want to kill my buzz?" Casting about for options, she decided to go into the 9th Circle across the way. She hadn't been in yet, and Cort decided she'd take unknown adventure over passive-aggressive angst any day.


	19. Manipulations and Machinations

_Hey Zero-Vision, you want new chapter you got new chapter! I was going to hold it after proofing, but you hit me in the middle of it. ;) _

* * *

**Ahzrukhal **did a double take when the door to his bar opened, before returning his attention to the shabby ghoul in front of him. "Patchwork, I've told you on multiple occasions that when all of your caps are out of your pocket, you are out that door."

"But...see there's oranges I need. Whatzat?"

"Patchwork do you want to leave, or do you want Charon to escort you?" If the poor drunk had had enough skin left to pale, he would have done it. _There. That always cuts through sufficiently. _Ahzrukal watched him shamble towards the door, only bouncing off the wall once before making it out, and then turned his attention back to the girl. She was balancing on a crutch and peering at his bouncer along with a dog. Both had their heads tilted up._ So, the little pet smoothskin had finally strayed into my particular yard._ He'd heard Carlo and other less..._tolerant_ residents whining about her for at least the last week and a half. Even Greta had let on that she was annoyed over the attention the kid was giving Carol. The infuriating woman periodically came in to buy a drink and boast about how profitable Carol's Place was becoming. Ahzrukhal was starting to consider how to quietly poison the hag, politics be damned. Word was the kid wasn't too hot to trot on her either. He pondered on how to turn this opportunity to his advantage, watching her try to interact with the leather-clad ghoul in the corner. That was always amusing.

"Hi." Charon grumbled something non-commital and continued to stare at her. "My name is-"

"Talk to Ahzrukhal."

"...Cort. Okay." She looked around questioningly, then back to Charon. "Where...?"

Not quite amusing then. Most people would continue to haunt the bouncer, particularly the non-ghouls who had no personal experience. This kid was being surprisingly mannerly for a smoothskin.

"Over here, smoothskin. He won't say any more than that to you, he can't."

She turned around and limped towards the bar, looking interested. "Oh? Some kind of partial aphasia? Because there's probably at least a few different thera-"

"No, smoothskin, he's been ordered not to. He physically can't because_ I _say so." Ahzrukhal smiled broadly. "Welcome to the 9th Circle, by the way. You need booze, I've got booze. If something a little more, ah, exotic is your particular pick-me-up, I do have a reserve stock of more _refined_ refreshments."

The kid appeared to parse that for a moment, then cocked an eyebrow at him and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Do tell. About those and him."

* * *

_**And**__ I wanted to avoid the angst. I just walked into angst city. It's an angst metropolis. _Cort stared at the scarred bartop, thinking. If Charon was brainwashed to obey anything Ahzrukhal said, then his protestations over Charon not being a slave were more than a bit hollow, considering he wasn't allowed to move, talk, or probably even piss without permission. Context was one thing, practical application was entirely another. Charon was a slave to _him_. Cort didn't feel like laughing crazily at this point as she had with Gob's story; what she felt now was positively murderous. Experiencing something horrifying once apparently lent it clarity the second time around. Either that or she was getting _used_ to this shit, God help her. One thing for sure, this time she was going to find the guts to do something about it. There was nothing to be held over her head in this instance.

"So this contract of his, entitles the holder to his complete and loyal service, until you should decide to terminate it?"

"Correct. It's really quite ingenious."

"Tell me, is he any good in combat? Obviously, I'm not making out quite so well on my own." Cort gestured deprecatingly towards her splint. There was no way the ghoul wasn't, for one thing he was _huge_, and every inch of that was quietly intimidating. She didn't sense any of it was false bravado, either.

"Do I sense some interest in acquiring him? I can tell you now, he is very competent. He is also a very important asset to myself and the 9th Circle." Cort pretended to shift onto her other arm, jingling the caps in her pocket and the contents of her tank top at the same time. Watching his eyes flicker, she smiled. _Gotcha. I sense something, too_, _and it's around my little finger. Wait, ew._

"I'm certain we can come to some sort of mutually beneficial agreement. What did you have in mind?" She listened as Ahzrukhal laid out a plan to kill Greta. While a ghoul, he couldn't expect to have her killed obviously by himself or Charon and not lose even more business, and he somehow had gotten a bead on the animosity between Cort and the woman. Cort, however, was not _that_ pissed off, and there was the question of Carol.

Cort smiled regretfully at him. "Well I couldn't possibly do anything that could put Carol out, she's been a dear to me, you see. Perhaps a monetary arrangement could be made?"

"Weeell. Let me think for a moment. It's not a transaction I want to take lightly, see."

_"_Oh of 's obviously a very useful piece of property." Any wider and her smile could be classified as a rictus. Ahzrukhal seemed too full of himself to notice the difference, and she noted he didn't correct the distinction of Charon's status this time._ I hope to God and little green apples Charon can't hear this. _Cort grimaced internally. _I always was...am stupidly optimistic_. _Hurry _up_, you slimy bastard before I throw up and jinx my act._ She had a fair to excellent idea that any impression of altruism over selfish need would jack the price up exponentially. Vomiting would probably raise it into the stratosphere.

Ahzrukhal appeared to come to a decision. "Two thousand caps."

Cort feigned astonishment. "You're dreaming. I don't even know how he'll perform in the field. One thousand."

"Smoothskin, you impugn my honour. Fifteen hundred then."

"You insult my intelligence. I may have fallen out of a Vault, but it was hardly yesterday. One thousand and..." Cort took a wild shot and grabbed his tie, letting it slip through her hand. "All the lovely _refined_ refreshments I find out in the wastes suddenly become strictly yours. With a minor retrieval fee after say, 50 units of each? I go an _awful_ lot of places and kill a _lot_ of awful raiders. Why, you'd be doing me a favour. I have no personal taste for the stuff."

"Deal. I can expect payment..?" He looked at her inquiringly, and with not a little amount of sleaze. _Christ, after dealing with Moriarty it's like tap dancing around this guy. Too eager.  
_

"Within the week. It gives me time to recoup the caps spent on the fine medical care I received here and find additional stock for yourself. Call it a bonus for patience. We won't count it towards the quota."

"Excellent doing business with you smoothskin. Now if you'll excuse me, it's closing time." Ahzrukhal was practically dying to crunch the numbers on how far ahead this would put him, and shooed Cort and the dog out of the bar. She had a chance to see Charon's eyes follow her out the door. _Oh Christ. Here we go with the 'killing me by brain' again. Damnit._

Cort beat tracks down the stairs with Dogmeat, talking to him. "So great, now Momma's masquerading as a drug runner. And the person she wants to save hates her, and she's not entirely sure if that's a bad thing since half the reason he's appealing is because it's someone who can't dump me without warning so now I have guilt." Brooding for a moment, she continued. "And I don't even make sense to myself anymore now so things are really getting twisted. But maybe I can make up for leaving Gob. Let's go kill stuff." Stifling a giggle, she practically pole vaulted into the Chop Shop, making a line for Barrows.

"Doc, I need this thing off _now_. It's been long enough."

"I'm stunned you haven't chewed it off yet."

'The splint?" Cort looked down at it.

"Your leg."

"Oh haaa just get the cutters, please."

* * *

**After** redressing Dogmeat and herself, Cort plunged back into the Metro stations. Pausing to repair their armour from a cache she had left, they singlemindedly slaughtered anything that had encroached back into the underground, and stripped off everything that they had killed the first time. Cort returned periodically to sell and trade scrap metal with Winthrop for surplus medical supplies. Quinn had returned with Stimpaks a week prior, but Cort decided to focus mainly on the Rad-Away. She could regenerate continuously after lighting up like a Christmas tree, making it a point to flush her system clean after Patchwork had latched onto her like she was an ambulatory electric blanket the first trip back. When she had depleted the Metro, she turned her attention to the abandoned sections of the History Museum.

This she enjoyed thoroughly. After the experience with Patchwork, she spent hours slinking through crumbling rooms and corridors with Dogmeat, waiting for the feral ghouls to pick up on her radiation levels when they were high, popping them right after they noticed her. Whatever mutation gave her the regeneration, it didn't seem to extend to the ghoul's ability to flush out the excess. _Maybe that has something to do with them degenerating on the outside. I should make a point to talk to Barrows over it._

Going through one of the larger offices and doing what was now routine smash and grab, Cort found the most beautiful thing.

"Dogmeat, look at this!" Cort had flipped open a display case after noticing a rifle stock through the dirty glass. Picking it up and running her hands along the barrel, she tilted it to make the dim light dance in the scroll work. "Lincoln, President.. holy _sweet crap_! Oh I am never ever letting this go. And it's a .44. I _knew_ I'd find something for those bullets eventually. Dogmeat, gimmie the .44s." She reached over as the dog turned and presented a pouch on his other side. "Alright. Let's make her dance."

Dance it did. The gun hit anything Cort aimed it at with wicked precision, and sang while it killed. Finding other Lincoln artifacts, Cort placed them back in the display case, not knowing what to do with them, but wanting to protect them for the moment. If the repeater had managed to stay there, then the smaller things certainly would until she came back.

"I'll bring Dad back here when we find him Dogmeat. He'd love this stuff, and I can introduce him to everyone. Barrows would definitely like that." Cort was wandering down one of the last hallways towards a gated room, sniping the turrets off. The things popped up everywhere in between the ferals and were annoying the hell out of her. Picking the lock on the gate, she slipped into the room. "Let's just get this last bit over with. HEY UGLIES." Cort pulled out a grenade as the hissing started and cocked her arm. Dogmeat started snarling.

"What, it's just ferals, why are you- oh _shit_. Glowing ones." Cort flung the grenade as hard as she could, then ducked when it ricocheted back at her after hitting the stairwell.

_Oops._


	20. The Things I Do For People

**"DOGMEAT** RUN!" Cort screamed, flinging herself back. The dog tore back down the hallway, whining. She had instructed him to do this after noting that the dog became extremely single-minded when she was threatened, and she couldn't afford to have him taken out entirely. He had free rein to attack in combat, but if she said beat it, he beat it.

You're my 9th inning miracle, okay honey? I say run, you run for Momma." He had fussed, but when it came down to it, he listened to his world. Right now, he held the opinion that his world was totally off her nutting axis.

He spun on his haunches the instant the explosion hit, claws digging into the rotting floor and regaining lost speed. That was his signal to return and rip the hell out of anything left. Too late, he noticed the bars across the doorway and slammed into them.

* * *

**Cort** came to by a clanging noise at the back of her head, followed by rapid sneezing interspersed with weak barks. She had a moment to register that the gate was closed behind her before a feral ghoul grabbed hold of her throat. Gagging on a shriek, she pulled out her pistol and unloaded into the thing's ribcage, caving it in. One of the Glowing Ones was paste against the far wall. The other was dragging a leg and making a beeline for where she was sprawled on the floor. Jumping up, Cort shrieked again.

" I just HEALED this leg up you fucking, shuffling ..._nightlight_!" She reached down and pulled a piece of shrapnel from her thigh, then launched herself at the feral. Something either approaching incredulity or ecstasy over a meal coming towards it passed over the ruined features before Cort slammed into it and started throttling. "I am tired of being fucking knocked out or crippled, do you hear me? I am DONE!"

Dogmeat sneezed a final time and snorted, looking up. If a dog could gape, what he saw through the bars would have done it. As it was, he was making a passable attempt. His world was gyrating around in some crazy tango with one of the bright things, both of them hopping on one leg. It was either trying to eat her or push her away, and she was trying to strangle it. Shaking himself out of it, he started to fling himself against the jammed gate.

Cort squeezed harder, snapping her elbows out to block the feral's arms every time it tried to claw at her head. "Stay the _fuck _out of my _face_." It froze and spread its arms as she pressed. Suddenly, a warm pulse hit her like a hammer, the green glow from the ghoul intensifying into brilliance. Cort put both her legs down and pushed, bringing the Glowing One to the floor as a vicious smile dawned over her face.

"Right. Barrows told me about this. Well guess what, you sonofabitch. That works for me too, and I've got the motherfucking _advantage_." She pressed both thumbs into the thing's windpipe and shoved, the tips digging into the rotted flesh. "Come on you bastard, hit me. _HIT ME_!" Cort pounded its head against the floor, screaming with laughter every time another radiation pulse shot out. After her leg stopped aching, she finally snapped the feral's neck, and slumped over panting, still straddling it. "Was it good for you, sunshine?"

Looking up, she finally noticed Dogmeat banging against the gate. She walked over and wrenched it open, hugging him quickly. She was irradiated to hell. "You are Momma's best ever boy. Come on, let's go back. I think we've gotten enough for the last of the caps we need for our new friend, plus a little to float on."

Cort used Rad-X and the last Rad Aways on Dogmeat and headed back to Underworld. Grimacing, she planned out how to get through to the clinic without turning too many heads. Pushing almost 800 Rads, she decided the quickest thing would be to just pay Barrows to flush her system out entirely. She was fairly certain there was still shrapnel in her leg as well. Seeing Patchwork stumbling around in the front of the concourse, Cort just gave it up and ran back to the Chop Shop. _Poor guy will forget seeing me fairly quickly anyway. As long as I don't hang around for him to limpet onto my leg._ She held the doors to the clinic open long enough for Dogmeat to tear through behind her and then turned around, pushing them shut. Graves wasn't in, but Barrows was against the near wall near one of the beds.

"Hey Doc, I'm going to need you to do me a quick fav...who is that woman and _what_. Are you doing to her."

* * *

**After **Barrows had gone over who Reilly was and explained the tests he was running were completely benign, along with why he was performing them, Cort leaned against the observation screen at the far end of the clinic, thinking. Barrow's Glowing Ones, Meat and Ethel, slobbered on the glass behind her, illuminating her profile. Barrows approached her after about thirty minutes.

"Cort, you really should let me treat you. It's not good for normal humans to stay irradiated."

"Normal." Cort huffed under her breath, then looked up at him. "Did you do this to me, too? While I was out?"

"Blood samples only. You were too badly injured to do anything more extensive, and I won't take living tissue without permission. Reilly has been here since the last time you left, and is only in some kind of coma at this point. Nothing I'm doing will affect her adversely." She looked at him and snapped sharply.

"What did you find?"

"Nothing useful. Either the drugs we had to put into you interfered, or the blood packs had been contaminated." He paused. "Cort I understand if you're angry with us, but-"

"I'm not angry at why you did it. A little hurt, maybe, but you didn't do anything you didn't think was right, or the best for everyone. I understand why you couldn't ask permission. And you took care of me." She sighed, coming to a decision. "So you want tissue samples, huh? Tell me, do ghouls regenerate missing tissue as well as damaged?"

"Of course, but I told you, I don't need more ghoulified tissue, it's...Cort, what are you doing with the knife." Barrows backed up when she pulled her combat knife out of her boot.

"Oh, it's not for you silly, you're my friend. It's just show and tell. I think you need to understand why I'm touchy on the subject." Barrows reached back for her as she held out her right arm and slashed it repeatedly.

"Cort, _stop it!"_ Grabbing her arm, he started putting pressure on the cuts, dragging her towards one of the examination tables. Dropping the knife, she put a hand on his shoulder and shook him.

"Wait for it. Take your hand off and just wait for it." She pushed him away and slatted the blood off with her fingers, holding up her arm. Barrows gaped as he watched the slashes knit back together in front of him. Cort smiled. "Tada." Walking over to sit on her old bed, she held her arm back out and watched bemusedly as he sat down and traced his fingers over the new skin. He looked up at her, not letting go.

"Can you explain this?"

"Yeeeah well, notice how I like doing stupid things? One of the first stupid things I did after getting pushed out of 101 was get myself severely irradiated next to an undetonated warhead for caps. Don't look at me like that, there's worse things a girl could have done for payment." Cort shuddered and thought of Nova. "It was for some nutty researcher wanting to examine the effects of a radiation sickness treatment she cooked up. Her best guess was the rapid increase and decrease I had after not really having any exposure whatsoever caused the mutation. Maybe it was that, maybe it was the guck she injected me with, or both, I don't know. So now I'll regenerate, but higher than 1,000 Rads will still bake me to death, so I'm not a ghoul. I can't flush out the excess, so maybe that's the difference. Anyway, before I left she warned me not to let anyone know about it. She's crazy, but she's not a bad person. Something about not ending up with a preventative shot to the head, or unethical scientific exploitation." Cort flopped back onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling. "But I don't think you or Nurse Graves will tell anyone. So lock the door, set up and start cutting out what you want."

Barrows dropped her arm like he had been burnt by it. "_What_?" Cort propped up on an elbow and looked at him.

"You heard me. I mean, it's not exactly completely human tissue, more like something in between, but it has to be at least a little bit helpful. I'll bring back some of Moira's crap later, too."

"Cort, the implications are astounding, but you can't actually mean to do this." For all his protestations, Barrows was starting to look excited.

"Why the hell not? You already took blood out, just take more. You said I could grow it back, so take small portions from different spots. I'm pretty sure there's shrapnel in my leg and you'll have to dig it out anyway. Just take extra along with it. Besides, you're my friends." Cort grinned. He was already moving to set up a surgical tray.

"This is going to hurt, Cort. I can't afford to contaminate the tissue with Med-X."

"Can't be worse than anything else I've put myself through. Where do you want me to sit?"


	21. The Things She Gets Into

_Whee, this chapter was one hell of a slog. Charon's going to be as complex as Cort and it took me a while to wrap my head around everything. Enjoy it, I think I'm toast for the weekend._

* * *

_**Oh**__ God it's worse, it's a lot worse._ Cort was grinding her teeth and trying not to scream. Barrows had taken skin, marrow, and was now performing what she could only class as vivisection on her thigh.

"We're almost finished."

"JUST FUCKING DO IT!" She dug her hands into the sides of the gurney and wailed. Barrows sliced one last long strip out of her and placed the scalpel down.

"There. I can't thank you enough, Cort."

Hitching and rubbing her eyes, she watched the hole in her leg begin to fill in. "You're welcome. Now let's never do that again." Cort spared a thought for wondering what normally emanated the clinic, because nobody had apparently batted an eye and bothered to check on the screaming.

Bringing her three cans of Pork N' Beans from a cabinet, Barrows clumsily patted her on the shoulder and opened one for her. "Here. You're about to be very hungry."

Cort watched him store the pieces of herself and sucked cold beans off her fingers, rapidly ploughing through the other cans. "So that's how it works, huh? Have to replace the parts somehow."

"Yes. Don't be surprised if you eat more than normal for the next few days. Let me know when you're back to feeling like yourself and we'll flush the radiation out of you."

Cort tried stuffing her tongue inside the last can, chewing on the rim, and then gave up. "M'kay. So will that actually help? Please for the love of cookies say that'll help, because that _sucked_."

"I can't say for sure, and it will probably take years to produce results with the equipment available. But it's new, and anything new is good."

"Having experienced an awful lot of new lately, I could argue against that sentiment." She flicked at her leg. "I think you can clean me out now."

Barrows came over and started filling her with Rad Away while Cort tried not to puke. "Oh crap. Maybe I should have eaten afterward."

Barrows cocked a skinless eyebrow at her. "You would've really ended up chewing on your leg." He looked at her speculatively. "You really are the most peculiar smoothskin."

"Yeah well. I still believe that being nice for the sake of it pays off, even if everyone else seems to operate to the contrary. Besides, I owed you."

"You already paid for your treatment, Cort. You don't owe me for that." He pulled the last of the needles out of her arm.

Cort grinned wickedly. "I meant for holding my hand." She grinned even wider when Barrows' head shot up. "Remembered a few days after I woke up. It meant a lot, a _ton_, so thanks. You remind me of my Dad." Sobering, she slid off the gurney and redressed, watching the doctor going over to unlock the clinic doors. "Told you nice for the sake of nice pays off. Now, I need to go finish up business here and find actual Dad." Slinging on her pack, she signalled to Dogmeat and went over to the exit.

"Well good luck Cort. I hope to see you again, and thank you." He held out his hand to shake.

"You too." Cort stared at his hand, and appeared to make up her mind about something. "Oh, _screw it_." Grabbing him, she hugged as hard as she could and then bolted out the door. Barrows stared at it, bemused for a few moments after it closed.

"_Very_ peculiar smoothskin."

* * *

**Cort** made her other goodbyes and final transactions, then stopped into Carol's to pick up her letter for Gob, downing two bowls of noodles and garnering another hug before leaving. "I'll probably stop back in before I leave for Megaton, Carol, so you can always write another one too. I need to go through the MoT to get that dish I told you about first."

"Oh you be careful, honey. You don't need to end up hurt again like last time." Carol fussed and shoved an apple into her hands, smiling when Cort tore into it.

"Don't worry Carol, I'll be fine. I'm going to go get Charon now, so I'll be safer this time around." _I'm getting better treatment out of so-called monsters than regular people out here. I wonder what the hell that says about the state of things._

"Oh honey, are you sure you want to do that? Charon is a violent man, the things he's done for Ahzrukhal..."

"Yeah, but he was told to do them right? I'll be fine. I'm not going to leave him in that corner."

"Well alright, sweetie, I'm not going to change your mind. Just be _very_ careful. Now, you come back as soon as you can." Carol wrapped her in another hug just as Greta came back in from her break. Cort hugged Carol while giving the sour ghoul behind her a shit-eating grin through a mouthful of apple.

"Bye, Carol."

* * *

**Striding** around the balcony with Dogmeat, Cort finished her apple and flipped the core to the dog. "You're spoiled. Yes you are." She paused outside the door to the 9th Circle and crouched down in front of him, whispering. "Now I want to have a talk with you. We're going to pick up a new friend to travel with, and he's probably not going to like Momma very much, not that I can blame him. He doesn't actually look like he likes _anyone_, really. Anyway. Remember the last time we were in here?" He whuffed quietly. "Yeah. Well even so, I want you to take care of him too, and don't feel jealous. You're still Momma's best boy. Are you okay with all that?" She smiled as the dog licked her face. "That's my fella. Now let's go get Charon."

Walking into the bar, Cort plastered a fake smile onto her face, slinging her pack off.

"Well well, smoothskin. I was wondering if I'd see you again." Ahzrukhal leaned over the bar at her and leered.

"I said I'd be back." Cort dug out two bags and tossed them onto the counter. "Caps, and the other materials. Want to count them?"

He hefted the bag. "Oh, it feels right, smoothskin. I trust you to keep up, uh, your end, of the bargain." He produced a ratty piece of paper from inside his suit. "Here's mine. Enjoy it in good health." Plucking it out of his hand, Cort tucked it carefully inside her armour. "I'll let you have the pleasure of informing him about the change of hands yourself."

"I'm sure he'll be thrilled." _ I'm also sure he's not deaf or blind, you idiot_. Watching Ahzrukhal start to count through the bag of caps anyway, she walked over to Charon and looked up at him. "You heard?"

He turned his head down to her and rasped. There was definitely excitement in the ghoul's chalky eyes. "Yes. I must take care of something before we leave."

"Go for it." She followed him back to the bar, where Ahzrukhal was still fussing over Cort's payment.

"So Charon, come to say goodbye to your dear old employer?"

"Yes."

Cort's eyes widened as Charon unslung his shotgun, slamming her visor down just in time for a spray of bloody tissue to hit it. She watched as her new companion moved around the bar and unloaded another shot into what was now an extremely dead former employer. Looking down, Cort giggled and started flicking chunks off her shoulders and chest, listening to people yelling around her. _Why am I not surprised the eyeballs ended up on my tits._ Winthrop skidded in a moment later, the Mister Gutsy Cerberus putting behind him.

"Cort, what the hell?" He looked around the room, boggling.

"Everything's fine, I hired Charon, Charon shot Ahzrukhal. Didn't know it was going to happen. Sorry about the mess." She blinked at him as something slid off the ceiling and hit her helmet.

"Oh-Okay. Well then. I can't really argue with that anyway." Collecting himself, he waved at Cort. "Uh, come in again when you've got more to trade, huh? I'm pretty sure one of the junctions caught fire and I'll need stuff for it." Sparing an intense glance back into the room, he left with the robot trailing after him, who was muttering something about 'missing the fun' and 'expected cleanup duty'.

"Roger. Man, nobody liked this guy." She turned back to the room as Charon came over to her, who had waited for Winthrop to leave.

"Alright, we can go."

"Peachy. Just let me dump this shit down the sink first." Cort went around the bar and started emptying the drugs down the sink there, being careful not to let any of it touch her, or to step in the slop left of Ahzrukhal. Charon stood on the other side, giving her a funny look. "What? he was an asshole, no wonder you shot him. I could've done without the paint job, though. It was bad enough getting near enough to manipulate him, wearing him is really icky." She giggled again, then thinned her lips. "Sorry about that. By the way. It probably didn't sound very nice, but it was the only way I could think of to get you loose." She looked back up to him, belatedly thinking of something. "Where's your stuff? You can go get it while I'm doing this, or anything else you need to do here."

His face closed off again entirely. "I own nothing, and do not wish to stay any longer than you require."

"Oh." Finishing up in silence, Cort wiped herself down, shrugged and then shoved her caps back into her pack. "Okay, then. Let's go."

* * *

**Charon** trudged silently behind her and Dogmeat down into the Metro. Cort had to repair her armour again, and she was fairly certain there was still an entire set of Talon combat armour left that she could give to the ghoul. She pulled out the parts she needed for herself and Dogmeat, sat down, and gestured to the rest of the cache, which she had hidden in the wall of the ladies room. "Use what you want out of it. Dogmeat is carrying extra ammo for your shotgun already, and there's a spare pack in there towards the back."

He started stripping off to change into the better armour, and Cort shuffled around to face the other way. Belatedly something dawned on her. "You can talk whenever you want. Do whatever you want, really, aside from ditching me. Shooting things trying to kill me would be really good."

"For good or ill, I now serve you. Shooting things is definitely covered, and is a welcome change from that _damned_ corner."

Cort smiled and started replacing her own plates. "Knew you could talk."

"I was brainwashed, not lobotomized. Someone orders me to shut up, I shut up. Otherwise, I can say whatever the hell I want. Ahzrukhal did not take long to get tired of what that was. Eventually, so will you."

Frowning, Cort looked over her shoulder. "Will not." Charon cocked an eyebrow at her and said nothing, putting the last of his armour in place, then started tearing down his shotgun. She turned around to watch.

"So what do you wish me to call you?"

"Anything but late for supper." Charon blinked at her. Cort blinked owlishly back. "My name, what else?"

"Previous employers have had their own ideas about suitable titles for themselves."

"Well, I'm new. Cort's fine. The dog is Dogmeat." She smiled as he whuffed from the corner. "Shotgun shells should be on the front...what is it Dogmeat, the left? The left front pouch. Any other ammo, just ask and he'll bring it to you. And there's a 10mm pistol holstered on the front right."

"And does the mutt know how to use it?" Charon snarked.

"Oh ha, ha. No, it's backup for me, and now you. The 'mutt' has his own methods. You watch his back, he'll watch yours."

"You're ordering me to guard your guard dog?"

"No, I'm asking you to act like part of the team. I don't need to be guarded, neither does he. What we _do_ need is help slaughtering things more efficiently."

"So what particular _things_ are stymieing your no doubt impressive skills?"

Cort frowned, starting to get her back up. _I don't know why people would tell Mr. Congeniality here to shut up, this is just delightful. I won't, but I'm done rolling over. "_Particular Super Mutant things. They started getting bigger when I went into the MoT. That's where we're going tomorrow, if you can handle slinking around with me and Dogmeat. We'll go slow, you're probably rather... _diminished_ from standing around for so long." She paused after getting a satisfyingly outraged look for that barb. "Just how long were you stuck there?"

"18,942 days. It may not be accurate, there were points where I was wounded and could not keep track of time. If you are so concerned about the matter of my performance, then why did you employ me?"

"Didn't you want to get out of there?" She tilted her head at him, puzzled. Over fifty years with that bastard would make her want to go to the damned moon, never mind just out of the stinking bar. _I was sure he wanted to leave. Positive._

"Just because I badly wanted to get out of _there _does not mean that I wanted to end up _here_, or receive false concern from an arrogant smoothskin."

"Oh that fucking tears it." Charon watched her scramble to her feet and stand over him, digging around inside her armour. She finally plucked his contract free and held it out. "If all this ain't floating your boat then here. Dogmeat and I made out fine before you and your low opinion, and we can just go back to doing it again." She wiggled the piece of paper when he did nothing. "Well, go on and take it if you want to beat feet. Do you want it, or not?" He continued to sit there, holding the parts of his shotgun, staring. "For fuck's sakes, do you want it or _NOT_? Take the damn thing!"

"I _CAN'T_!" Cort backpedaled. The man could yell like a banshee, albeit one choking on gravel. He was half out of his seated position on the floor, gun parts scattered. Cort carefully replaced his contract and sat down in front of him again, quietly setting the weapon components back in front of him. Resting her chin on her knees, she watched him slowly sit back down and resume. After a while, she uncurled and went over to lock and barricade the door.

"I'm tired, and it's been a long day. Tomorrow's probably going to be even longer. If you want to sleep too, Dogmeat will wake both of us up if he hears anything. You probably should. I've cleaned this and the Central station out twice now, so I'm not expecting anything too crazy to pop up, either." Cort flopped down on the floor, facing away from him. The dog trotted over and leaned against her back, nose pointed towards the door. Closing her eyes, she listened to Charon finish reassembling his shotgun. His voice rasped out a few minutes later.

"If there is a chance of hostile encounters, why didn't you remain in Underworld for the evening?"

Cort sighed. "Because you didn't want to. Goodnight."


	22. First Impressions

**Charon** laid down with his back against the peeling wall and crossed his legs. The smoothskin and her mutt had fallen asleep an hour ago, and the ghoul had considered staying awake until he had noticed the dog's ears constantly twitched at any sound. Nothing had attacked them yet, so the kid must not have been fibbing about her earlier actions. As it was, he was tired and grateful for the chance to relax for a few moments. Ahzrukhal had forced him into the practice of sleeping in extremely short shifts, and it had been grinding, along with the standing stock still near constantly. The girl had hit far too close to home with the 'diminished' crack she had fired back at him for needling her. He snorted and looked over at the lump on the floor, then rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

Being stuck in one spot for too long had worn his discipline low. If he was supposed to honourably serve his employer, he wasn't exactly making a fantastic start at it by whipping them into a hissy fit. Obedience was not an issue, would never be an issue, self-control outside of that if it wasn't ordered of him apparently was. It had been a very long time on a very short leash and he was snappish. He considered that he was behaving like an ill-trained animal, and decided that on the whole, he did not care as long as he followed his contract and orders. The smoothskin would get bored and sell his contract off or get herself or him killed, and either way the entire affair would be over. For good or ill. He snorted again, and watched the dog's ears train onto him for a second before returning to their minute movements. Charon contemplated whether her outburst over his contract had been from being insulted or being seen through, and decided he didn't much care about that either. On further deliberation, he decided he didn't much care about anything.

At least it seemed like he wouldn't have to carry the girl entirely. Well repaired armour, weapons in good condition, and the cache had been decently hidden and stocked with small amounts of every necessity. He rubbed a hand over the scratched out panel on his chest. If she was killing mercs she couldn't be entirely hopeless. Most Vault dwellers he had run into during his long life had either been dead, enslaved or blubbering messes who couldn't even handle a .32 pistol. This one seemed to have plans and an ability to execute them, which was definitely new. He had expected to end his life going feral and being tied to the damn wall in Ahzrukhal's stinking hellhole, chained to the corner where he had lived like a dog. If he was to be a dog again for the smoothskin, at least it appeared that this time he would be a fairly loose one, as long as he found some restraint. It couldn't be all bad, working for the girl. It might even be-

Charon shook his head, hard, and shuffled lower. _I've had enough of thinking. I've been doing nothing but thinking for half a damn century. Now I want to do some sleeping_. He drifted off listening to the kid's quiet snores.

* * *

**He** woke up to her louder bitching. "'Insta-Mash Potatoes, proudly produced by our annexed Canadian allies'. Gee thanks, Canadians." Cort was pouring more dirty water into a dented old pot and battering at the contents with a spoon while she sat on the floor. Her ridiculous hair fluffed up with each jabbing motion. "'Dig In Flavour'. Dig a hole to bury it in, maybe." She looked up and smiled when he shifted against the wall. "Oh good, you're up. You must've been wiped out. It's past noon."

Charon pushed himself up to a sitting position, cracking his neck. "Why did you let me sleep for so long?"

"Because you needed it? You didn't wake up when I let Dogmeat out to go around seven, and that was pretty noisy, so I left you alone and just read all morning. I had to catch up, anyway." She held out the pot and a can of Cram to him when he stood up and stretched. "Here, I ate already. Sorry it's cold, I don't make fires." Charon took the food and sat back down.

"You've been out here _how_ long and are incapable of building a fire?"

Cort narrowed her eyes at him. _Here we go again. Not even five minutes._ "I am not incapable of anything with enough practice. I just don't like building fires. I can eat everything without making a blazing 'come get me, I'm here' sign. However if your delicate sensibilities require _hot_ food, I'm sure I can make some kind of accommodation. Perhaps we can find a chafing-dish to cart around for you."

"This is just _fine_, thanks."

She turned away from Charon's sneer as Dogmeat trotted back in the door, carrying a dead radroach. He dropped it in her lap and whuffed. She hugged him and pulled out his bag of treats, giving him one. "Good boy, you knew Momma was still hungry and brought a present, huh?" Cort pulled the carapace off the insect and started scraping the spongy, rust-smelling meat out, eating it off her hand. She looked up when she noticed the ghoul staring at her. "What? You'd prefer the bug?"

"You're eating that raw." He was looking at her speculatively.

"Yeah, I told you. I don't like fires, so I eat it cold. This, molerats, whatever. I got into the habit after an...experience with a Mirelurk. Nothing's really that bad after raw giant crab brains." Cort internally winced over the memory of her first uncooked meal. She didn't like thinking about the particulars of the incident, or the things running before and after it.

"Why didn't you eat this?" He flicked his eyes at the half finished food in his hands.

"I told you, I ate already, and that's yours. I had the same thing earlier."

"But you're hungry." He was still looking at her oddly.

"I'm hungry, not gluttonous. Besides, now I have this." Cort felt her face burning, and turned around. "There's nothing wrong with me eating it this way. Now finish your own food."

Charon did as she said, watching her pull the dog against her and hunch over the rest of the radroach. She had mistaken curiosity for him being caustic again, and he'd managed to make her ashamed of herself for doing something surprisingly practical. He couldn't decide if the sudden wave of irritation he felt with himself was because he felt bad for hurting her feelings or because he found himself giving a shit that he had. Charon pushed the unwanted, unimportant debate with himself out of his mind, put the empty pot and can aside then fell back on the familiar.

"What are your orders for today?" Cort discarded the insect's shell as unobtrusively as possible and turned halfway back to him.

"One, kill anything trying to kill me, Dogmeat or yourself. Two, if I tell you to run, run. Three, if you think _I _should run, tell me to run. Actually, if you think I'm doing anything stupid, tell me then too, although I'm sure _that_ won't be a problem for you. Four, make sure you stay where I can see you if we're somewhere that hasn't been cleared yet. Five, mind the dog, when he closes to attack and when he starts acting upset. If he's snarling but you don't see anything, the shit's about to hit the fan." Cort pulled her repeater over and started loading it from her pack.

"And our current objective?" Charon rasped, standing up and getting ready.

"We're going into the Museum of Technology to retrieve a satellite dish for the DJ at Galaxy News Radio. It's attached to the Virgo II lunar lander, somewhere inside. We'll have to go through until we find it, then run it up the Washington Monument. Then I get to go back to that bastard Three Dog and he'll tell me where my father went. After that, I don't know. If my life continues to trend as it has been, someone else will extort me into doing something stupid I don't want to do. Same shit, different day." Cort got up and tied the piece of shin guard back over her Pip-Boy, and put her pack and helmet back on.

"Is it wise to cover that? It gives you a tactical advantage." Charon was pushing the panel back over the depleted cache.

"It's too much of a giveaway for the Talon Company. They're all trying to kill me."

"What? _You_?" He stared at her, incredulous.

"Yes, me." Cort snapped, then sighed. She was _not_ going to start bristling at him without real provocation. "I pissed off someone named Burke, and now I've got a contract on my head. I've already changed the way I look, and the cover will come back off once we get to the Museum. I can still peek under it, anyway. Look, let's just go. I'll tell you on the way to the other end of the station."

* * *

**Cort** gave him a condensed rundown on why she was outside the Vault and what had happened with Burke in Megaton, not feeling like filling in any of the surrounding details. However abrasive he was during down time, he appeared to be completely business once they had started moving, and seemed to be listening intently whenever she glanced back at him. Coming up to the exit, she paused and squatted down to talk to Dogmeat.

"Okay honey, now I want you to shred some legs and distract them okay? Quick as you can, in and out, and keep an eye on where they're aiming."

"You can't seriously expect it to understand you." Charon loomed out of the darkness behind her.

Snaking her head around, she glared at him, infuriated. "_He_ understands me just fine, and has probably brought down more in the past five weeks than you have in the last five decades, if we're not counting piss-sodden drunks. Do not. Insult. My dog."

"Yes Ma'am, is that an order, Ma'am?" Cort bit the inside of her cheek before replying. _Not now, not now._

"Whatever turns your crank. Just make sure you aim high since he'll be around knee level. Now let's go."

Cort peeked her head out of the gate and listened, stripping her Pip-Boy open. Nothing close on the screen. Eeling out and around the entrance, she hugged the wall and slipped inside the decaying building, holding the door ajar for Dogmeat and Charon. She looked around, and skittered to one of the large columns dominating the front of the room. Nothing was in here this time, and she took a moment to examine it more carefully. There was a crumpled biplane at the other end of the area, and a balcony surrounding the back connected to two stairwells, one of them destroyed by a collapsed section of the building. Dust floated in the air, lit by an office above. Some parts of the building still had power. Skittering forward to the giant circular desk in the corner opposite the crushed plane, Cort saw a terminal and grinned. Terminals in a museum meant information. She creeped over and checked behind her for Charon. He was still directly behind Dogmeat, moving quietly and looking everywhere, taking her rifle silently when she handed it to him.

"Yes..." Cort breathed, ripping through the categories. She closed it and turned around to take her rifle back, mouthing at her two followers. "West Wing. Up the stairs."

Once on the landing, the first set of doors almost immediately became a dead end. Both entrances to the Hall of Today were blocked by cave ins. Backtracking, Cort crawled past the lit window to a second open corridor and started into the darkness. She had made it partway down the hall before she abruptly stopped, Charon nearly crashing into her. "What?" He hissed into her ear.

"It's shaped wrong. That's wrong, that shouldn't be here." Wildly looking around, she crept forward, patting her toes against the grating the floor had turned into. "It _can't_ be." Cort slapped a hand over her mouth and fizzed crazily. "I'm in hell."

"Be quiet!" Charon moved around in front of her. "You're making too much-"

Several things happened at once. Spotlights flicked on, illuminating them in front of the entrance to a simulated Vault. Cort yelped at being blinded, Dogmeat and Charon both started snarling, and all three were drowned out by the door klaxon sounding, which was suddenly overridden by a very large voice.

"HUMAN. HUMAN WHO TOOK EYE EEEYAAAGH!" Cort sprang up and watched the Super Mutant brute barrelling through the Vault entrance room, amber warning lights strafing over it.

"Oh, _boogers_."

* * *

_A Canadian did in fact invent instant mashed potatoes in 1962. I apologize on behalf of my people for anyone who has had to actually _eat_ said potatoes._


	23. I Can See Inside There

**Cort** leaned back against the edge of the rusted Vault entrance with Dogmeat, looking across at Charon. Both of them had slammed to either side when the mutant had started blasting away with its assault rifle.

"COME IN HUMAN AND GET TURNED TO GOO."

Charon yelled out from around the corner. "She can't come in there, your _fat _fucking ass is taking up all the room." He held up his shotgun, aiming it towards the top of the door. Catching on, Cort did the same.

"Yeah snotbag, I won't fit!"

"I SMASH YOU ROTTEN MAN. ME NOT STUPID, NOW STOP HIDING AND COME DIE!"

Grinning widely, Cort looked at Charon. "Charon, I think he's too _wide_ to fit through the door. Like a mucus plug in a bottle!" She started laughing, big effusive gales of it. Nudging Dogmeat with her foot and winking at him, he started putting out short yelps. "Even the _dog_ thinks you're funny! Hear him laugh?"

"Yeah shitface! Too big, too stupid!" Cort was perversely happy, seeing the ghoul actually starting to smile as he taunted the mutant again.

"YEAAGH I SHOW YOU ALL, I FIT IN, I WILL FIT OUT TO CRUSH YOU!"

The instant the brute emerged from the door he swung towards Cort, Dogmeat darting behind it. Apparently shooting out the thing's eye gave her top preference to being obliterated. She rolled away backwards, the dog sinking into the mutant's legs and Charon firing point blank into the back of its head. Cort recovered in time to fire a round into the still intact eye before it fell heavily forward. Panting, she crawled over the twitching corpse and through the entrance to the Vault, then pulled her pistol out.

"There it is. Right where it is at home." Looking up she fired into the loudspeakers, cutting the klaxon cut off mid-blare, then holstered the 10mm. "I _hate_ that sound. That sound was the end of _everything_." Turning around, she watched Charon stripping the mutant of anything useful, then looked at Dogmeat. "Both of you are fine?" The dog whuffed. Charon just stared at her and stood up, the smile from earlier completely absent now. Taking that for a yes, Cort gripped her rifle tightly and started quietly moving deeper into the false Vault.

Cort hated it in here. She could imagine everyone she knew was around the corner, except the corners were all wrong, the walls corroded, and every few dozen feet an informational recording would go off, spooking her into hugging the walls even harder. It was almost a relief when another Super Mutant came haring around a corner at them, firing away with a hunting rifle. Dogmeat distracted it as he was supposed to do, and she fired another round into this one's head as Charon unloaded his shot into the chest, crumpling it in. _I could actually feel content like this if it wasn't such a nightmare. Having someone else is so much better, even if he is a total jackass._ Cort shot the mutant again as it staggered forward, ending it, then glanced at Charon. _Christ, just how lonely _am_ I?_

Emerging from the simulation, they discovered the door to the West Wing around the corner. Cort cracked the it open for Dogmeat to sniff into while she fiddled with her Pip-Boy. She looked up when Charon quietly rasped beside her.

"How can you be competent one second and such a foolish child the next?"

"Growing pains." She was getting tired of the constant jabs but would be damned before admitting it. "Told you, I'm new. Three months old, give or take. I don't handle...surprises very well." Cort cut him off before he could finish opening his mouth again, no doubt to say something else wonderfully disparaging. "There's just two sections to get through after this one, and at least the same amount of mutants. I can't read far enough to see if there's any more there. Let's go."

* * *

**The** odd little party crept through the West Wing, into more ruined rooms and decaying corridors. Chips of plaster turned to powder under their feet and everything stank of rot. Coming into the next large room, which was several stories high and surrounded by a long staircase, Cort stared up in wonder, eyes crinkling in happiness. _A rocket! It's a rocket, I wonder if Charon knows what ki-_ Her face fell when she looked over at the ghoul, who was staring at her impassively. _Oh. Right. Silly me._ Laying down on her belly, Cort wiggled to the railing and peered over. One Super Mutant was on the next landing down, and another was a few flights below that. Bringing the repeater in line, Cort flicked the sight up and drew a bead on the first brooding figure, then pulled the trigger. She turned back to her companions with a mad smile, the sound of splattering brains on the wall a counterpoint to the rifle's ringing shot. Shoving off the floor, Cort tore down the stairs as the other mutant shot up them.

"Come out, come out where ever you are, you sack of green shit!"

"HUMAN, I WEAR YOUR SPINE AROUND MY NECK!" It opened fire, and she grunted as at least one bullet hit her thigh.

"Yeah, yeah and my eyeballs for earrings, again with my fucking LEG." Cort leveled the repeater as Dogmeat flew past her, landing on the thing's face and latching on like a bulldog. Cort dropped her aim and shot into each over-sized knee as Charon reached her. Both dove as the mutant blindly strafed the staircase with its assault rifle, while Dogmeat kicked in with both hind legs again and again.

"Drop it, mutt!" Charon pushed off the wall and fired repeatedly into the mutant as soon as the dog was clear, halfway surprised it had listened to him. Cort turned her head and squinted as she was flecked with gore. Pushing her visor up, she walked down to him, limping slightly.

"I think you got it, Charon." He stared at her, then looked down to her leg.

"You've been shot."

"I noticed. It's not that bad. There's only a little blood in my boot, and I don't want to stop." Cort looked at her Pip-Boy and wiggled her toes. They weren't even squishing yet. "There's just one more long windy hallway before we're where we need to be, come on." She didn't spare another glance towards the rocket as she went by the base.

They moved rapidly up the sloping corridor, slowing down to glide around the corner, then approached another large room. Peeking in, Cort saw what she had spent so much time working towards. _Almost a month for a Goddamned punchbowl. Another fucking _month_ while Dad gets farther and farther away from me._ Something in her snapped, and she walked bald-faced into the room, rapidly ducking behind a column when she was shot at from two different directions. Unfortunately, it meant she was in at least one line of sight while avoiding the other. Charon and Dogmeat darted out from behind the corner before Cort screamed at them.

"Get BACK." As they retreated, she threw a grenade up at the mutant on the balcony, then spun to throw another into the corner, hissing when another bullet -she wasn't sure from which one- went through the side of her arm. Spinning out towards the balcony after both explosions tore out in rapid succession, she screamed again. "NOW!"

Watching Charon and Dogmeat tear past her towards the brute on the ground, Cort threw another frag grenade up and hared around to fire towards the one now engaging with her companions. Charon was rolling across the floor, dust puffs following him, while the dog tore at the backside of the mutant.

"Fucking. Die. So. I. Can. _Finish_." Shots rang out of the repeater with each of her words, the last one punctuated by the grenade exploding. The brute crumpled, and Charon obliterated the last mutant as it came lurching down the stairway to the main floor, riddled with shrapnel. "Finally. Thank you, Charon."

"That was_ unbelievably_ stupid." Charon pushed up from the floor and glared at her.

"And yet it turned out! Amazing how that works." Cort frowned and poked at her arm. "Perfect. Did either of those two hit you?"

"...No." Charon avoided looking at her.

"Okay, fine. Dogmeat?" He whuffed. "Perrrfect." Cort carefully knelt next to the lander and pulled out her lantern, Stimpaks, and the hemostat Doc Barrows had given her after one of her first trips back into the Metro. Flicking the lantern and her Pip-Boy light on, she plucked two bullets out of her leg then rammed a Stimpak home in both her thigh and arm. After the sample taking incident, digging bullets out almost tickled. Almost. Cort giggled and looked up, scratching where she had injected herself. Dogmeat was sniffing around Charon, while he looked distinctly uncomfortable at the dog's attention. "What?"

Dogmeat yipped at her, then pawed at the ghoul's torso. He backed away, grunting. Cort walked over to him and darted a hand out to push at the same spot, Charon hissing when she pressed below his upper armour. Holding her hand up in the dim light, she confirmed what the sticky warmth she felt had told her.

"Shit, shit, _shit _Charon, _why_ didn't you tell me? You said they didn't _get_ you!" Cort yelled roughly at him, frothing herself into near-panic.

"They did not. You ignored your own wounds to carry on from the previous engagements. I can do the same." He was refusing to look at her and attempted to stand taller.

"I didn't have a Goddamned gut shot. Get over here and sit down. Come _on_." Grabbing his wrist after he hesitated, she pulled him towards the lantern and her pack, tightening her grip and pulling harder when he tried to jerk his arm away. "Stop being a baby." Cort shoved Charon down and hauled the belted pouches off of him, jerking his shirt up over the bottom of the chest plating. "Lean back." She pushed, hard, when he didn't comply immediately.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Cort raised an eyebrow at him as she poked a finger into the gaping hole below his ribs, one hand still on his chest. "Picking a bullet out. Is this the only one left in you?"

"You're _touching_ me."

Cort slid the hemostat in to where she had felt the slug and started pulling it out. "Well, what the fuck did you expect me to do, I'm not telekinetic." She rolled her eyes and flicked the bit of metal away when he scowled at her.

"You've been out here for months, you fucking know what I mean." Cort made a face and emptied two Stimpaks into his side.

"And you missed a _whooole_ lot stuck in that corner while I swanned around Underworld, you know that? 'Oooh, the smoothskin's touching a ghoul'. Seriously, yes I am and big fat hairy deal. There's nothing weird or saintly about me Charon, I'm not going to give you cooties, it's just that a lot of you out here are assholes to each other. I'm not like that. Frankly I'm too tired, and I don't have time for any of that crap. Now answer my question, was that the only bullet left in you? Furthermore, what other holes or grazes are you hiding?"

"I don't hide shit."

"I _will_ strip you naked." Cort narrowed her eyes to slits and started tugging on his waistband when he hesitated, stopping when he snarled out an answer.

"Flesh wounds only. Nothing as serious as the gut."

"Good." Wiping her bloody hands off on her pants first, Cort dug around in her pack, hauling out a rag and two bottles of slightly glowing water, then froze at the look on the ghoul's face. It probably wasn't normal for _normal_ people to carry around irradiated water. Companion or no, she didn't feel like playing show and tell just yet with Charon. Cort blinked rapidly. _Oh God, that sounded horrible. Just get back to playing doctor already. Oh, God_, _that sounded even _worse_. Shut UP, brain._ "I uh, picked it up before I came back to get you from Ahzrukhal. Doc-Doctor Barrows told me what to do." She soaked one of the rags and put it over the wound, then handed him the other bottle. "You can get the rest."

* * *

**Charon** watched as Cort turned away towards the lander and scrambled up the struts to the dish, feeling the radiation seep comfortably into his belly. Her actions had definitely been outside of the normal expected responses to him being clumsy enough to be wounded. Previous employers had punished him for becoming damaged, and left him to mend himself. He had reacted to what he had first perceived as her rightful anger with a prideful claim about matching her abilities, trying to cover up his failure. His hesitation afterward was a result of him trying to parse what Cort's following behaviour meant about her emotional outburst. Charon fell out of his thoughts momentarily as a muffled clanging started.

"Stupid. Goddamn. Punchbowl." Cort was kicking at the back of the relay dish. Charon snorted. _As if I would have a problem matching or exceeding that._ Opening the second glowing bottle he drank the contents, then frowned thoughtfully at it while his other damaged tissues started to knit. This was _way_ outside. Reprimands for injury had only become worse after he had ghoulified, and a smoothskin employer looking out for his particular needs was practically ludicrous. He looked up again as Cort walked past him swearing and swinging her helmet, grabbing for her pack. Charon decided to go out on a limb.

"Why did you do this?"

"Do what, Charon? Goddamn ties." Yanking her baseball bat loose, she turned to look down at him.

"Reward me with medical attention when I failed to prevent becoming damaged."

"Wha-what? Are you flipping bonkers?" Cort considered him in a manner that inferred that he was.

"Previous employers have made it a practice to punish my failures."

"Jesus Christ Charon, you getting shot isn't failing. And I'm not your previous employers. I'm your employer _now_. That means I'm responsible for you, doesn't it? Wouldn't be very responsible of me to leave you impersonating a soup strainer. Have we forgotten the 'I'm new' and 'not an asshole' conversations or what?" Cort ran a hand back and forth over her head, flaring her hair into a crest. "I'm not going to punish you. You didn't do anything wrong. Just sit there and tell me when you feel normal again, or need anything or _whatever_." She returned to the lunar lander and climbed halfway up, then started wailing on the side of the dish support with the bat. Charon watched her antics and mulled uncomfortably over the very foreign concept of being taken care of by someone else. He couldn't decide what he thought of it, and had a sinking suspicion that he might be liking it. He had no idea whatsoever as to whether or not he liked _liking _it, but did _not_ like the fact that he cared about the answer.

Cort yelped and Charon got up before he was quite ready to, the remaining sting helping to clear his head. _Too much thinking._ He walked over to where his employer was now hanging from the lander with her armour caught on a strut, then reached up and twisted the dish loose with one motion. Cort crossed her arms, staring at him haughtily and swinging her feet as he held it out, looking over the rim at her.

"Yeah well. I loosened it." Cort rolled her eyes to the ceiling, then around the room, anywhere but back at him. "Uhm. Charon?"

"You're fucking stuck, aren't you."

"...Yes."


	24. Snarking and Revival

**"Charon**, what kind of rocket is that?"

"A Delta IX." Cort smiled to herself and clapped her hands lightly. They were moving back out of the museum, her crankiness from needing to be lifted down by him earlier departing at his answer. "Are you sure you don't wish to explore the rest of the building? We've made it this far in."

"No, we got what I came for, and been shot up enough for one day." Cort reached behind her and patted the dish where she had tied it to her pack, insisting that carrying it was good for her. "I want to get back and find my Dad. We can always come back later, and we're scraping up some nice stuff on the way back out." Charon had found two prototype Stealth Boys, and Cort had found another while scavving in the main entrance room with some other things, along with stripping the dead Super Mutants bare of ammunition and guns. "We'll go back and spend the night at Carol's, if that's alright with you. I don't feel like trying to install this thing in the dark."

"Whatever you wish." Cort raised an eyebrow, crouching in front of the main doors to consult her Pip-Boy, Dogmeat pressing his nose against the crack between them and sniffing. Charon had been surprisingly conciliatory since they had started back. He wasn't effusive, but the snarking was almost completely absent. _Well, for now,_ she mused. Whatever the cause, Cort wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. She motioned to them and they all moved out into the twilight, descending back into the Metro without outside notice and back to Underworld.

* * *

**Striding** through the main atrium towards the concourse, Cort slowed to ogle the dinosaur and mammoth again as she usually did. _I wonder if I could climb onto the mammoth's back and play pretend caveman. Probably too fragile. Probably get stuck again, idiot_. Putting the silly idea aside for the moment, she turned towards the stairs and nearly ran smack into Greta, who was looking at her as if she was something to be scraped off of a shoe.

"So. Smoothskin."

"Hi, Greta." Cort carefully slung her helmet and pack off and slumped, tired and not willing to deal with the jealous claptrap that she was sure was going to follow the woman's _wonderfully_ cheery greeting. She was even less ready to deal with it after Greta pumped a lungful of cigarette smoke into her face, sending her backing up and hacking. "What the hell was that for?"

"You know what the hell for. Stay away from Carol. She's mine." Bending forward she blew another cloud of smoke directly at Cort again, who retreated further down the stairs, bumping into Charon. Greta looked over Cort's head and narrowed her eyes when he silently reached up to keep her from falling backwards off the last stair.

"I'm pretty sure Carol belongs to herself, Greta, and I'm not going to hurt her feelings to spare petty ones of yours."

"Snotty little smoothskin bitch. It's bad enough trash like you is slaving one of us out, you have to go after-"

"Shut your damn mouth Greta, before I shut it for you." Both women turned to look at Charon, who was staring daggers into the other ghoul. "I'm not a slave, and furthermore, I didn't see any fucking concern over my personal condition out of you while I was rotting away in the 9th Circle. In point of fact, I don't recall you treating me as anything aside from a piece of furniture on your trips in to harass Ahzrukhal."

"But...you-" The ghoul woman was practically a goldfish, she was flapping her mouth so much. Cort balanced on the balls of her feet and flicked her eyes from one to the other, Dogmeat mimicking her from the other side.

Charon tilted his head and looked at her mockingly. "But me what? Oh, I can talk? Fucking shocking, isn't it? Most of you scrubs assumed after a while that just because I wasn't talking meant I was some dumb shit who _couldn't_." He crossed his arms. "Guess what else I could do, Greta. I could listen. Fifty _fucking_ years of listening. Now what you're going to do now is stop disrespecting my _employer_, and let her do as she pleases, which is _exactly_ what she allows me to do. Or does everyone need to find out who encouraged Gob into believing it was such a fucking fantastic idea to go adventuring?"

Greta swore and stormed back towards Underworld, pausing to give them both a look that was now more fearful now than hateful. The last thing she wanted to risk was losing Carol, and she'd managed to paint herself into a tight corner. Charon suppressed a grin as Cort hooted, smiling brilliantly at him. It really hadn't taken much provocation on his part to lay into Greta, everything he had said being accurate. He had gotten the satisfaction of venting years of frustration and managed to make Cort happy. She was-

Charon frowned. Since when had he cared about Cort being happy? For that matter, when had she become Cort? He looked down at her after carefully blanking his expression. "Are we going to stand around on the damned stairs all night or go inside." He kept his stare impassive as he watched her face fall into something matching his own.

"Yes, we're going inside. Come on." Cort crouched down to shoulder her pack, planting a kiss on the top of Dogmeat's head while she did it, then practically ran in through the doors to the main concourse. Charon stalked after her. He'd definitely hurt her feelings again if she was cuddling the dog. He shook his head violently and followed her up the stairs into Carol's, reprimanding himself. _Stop fucking thinking. Too much thinking. All too much._

"Well all right Greta honey, if you're not feeling well. Goodnight. Cort!" Carol turned away from the back of the room and came out around the counter to hug her.

"Hello Carol." Cort leaned into the woman and squeezed back, inhaling in the dried leather and wet copper smell of the woman. _I wonder if this is what a mom is like._ "Told you I'd be back before I went out again. Got another letter?"

Carol let go and dug around behind the counter. "Yes I do dear, and thank you so much again for taking them with you to my Gobby. Now were you all staying for the night? You look done in."

"Yes please Carol. How much for two beds?" Cort patted around for her pack.

"Nothing, call it a trade for delivering my letters. And we'll include supper with that, won't we dear?"

"Oh yes, _please_." Cort put her pack against the wall and slumped into one of the chairs, and rolled her head back. "Charon, sit down." She watched him sink into the seat across from her as Carol came back with three bowls of Mac N' Cheese, putting one down for Dogmeat, and plopping an apple in front of Cort.

"Whenever you're finished just go take the two beds right at the back of the far room, you'll be the only ones aside from us tonight. I'm going to bed now, Greta isn't feeling well." She patted Cort on the head and left.

Cort bolted her food as fast as she could, then whispered to Charon, still staring at the bowl. "The other bed's yours, so don't go sleeping in that chair just because I told you to sit in it." Snatching up her apple and pack she headed for bed, Dogmeat following behind. After stripping her armour off, she crawled under the blankets and pulled the dog in after her.

Charon finished eating and sat, waiting. After an hour or so, Cort started snoring, and he moved over to her bed, pausing at the bottom. One arm was flung over the dog, and the other was shoved under the pillow, face mashed into it and drooling. He froze when she shifted, then relaxed and went back to watching her when she stopped after only poking a foot out from the covers. Some time later he collapsed onto his own bed, slowly shaking his head over and over until he fell asleep.

* * *

**"Cort**?" Charon was looking blearily around the room. The kid's bed was empty except for her combat armour neatly piled at the foot. The damned girl had let him sleep out again. His eyes swiveled to focus on Carol as she came over.

"Oh, she's wandering around downstairs somewhere, dear, she's been in and out all morning fussing over things. Probably either selling things to Tulip or talking to Doctor Barrows, unless Winthrop has dragged her into helping with something." The blonde woman waited as he got up and stretched, popping and cracking his neck and shoulders. "There's a bowl of noodles for you on the table." She waved a hand at him and went back to deal with someone waiting at her counter.

After silently eating, Charon headed out into the concourse to look for his employer. He had twitched the front of her armour open, and the girl appeared to be smart enough to keep his contract on her person. He would have to find a way to brief her on the particulars at some point, but for the moment her seemingly particular care with it was adequate. She had wrapped it in plastic she found before leaving the museum and normally kept it behind one of the ablative plates. At the moment he needed to broach the subject of her leaving him senseless. Serving his employer was impossible if he was dead to the world, and after years of being disrupted from sleep, apparently he was incapable of waking up before he was ready to without being woken up by someone else. It was turning out to be a humiliating deficiency.

Not finding her in Tulip's store, Charon stalked to the far end and entered the Chop Shop. _Finally. Here she is._ Cort was standing next to the ghoul doctor, both of them leaning over another female smoothskin on the bed, neither of them looking up when he entered. _Idiot will get herself killed being that oblivious._ He bristled, then noticed the dog under one of the gurneys, relaxing from being tensed to spring. Charon relaxed with him. At least one of them understood.

"I can't believe she's still here. We're going to have to wake her up, you know." Cort had crossed her arms and was balancing on one bare foot, scratching the back of her leg with the other.

"I know, we can't keep feeding her intravenously. What would you think of applying a Stimpak directly to the sternum?"

"You're the doctor, not me. I'm just a jumped up medic. But Dad did it for Stanley once when he was unconscious for too long after hitting his head down in the core. Worked then, and she's in better shape now than he was, except for the stupid coma." Cort noticed Charon and looked over. "Hey, sleepyhead."

Charon considered getting into a another pissing match but refrained after deciding he would rather not perform it in front of the doctor, and settled for leaning against the wall, nodding towards her and Barrows.

"Well, it can't do her any harm, so let's try it. Hold her shoulders while I administer it." Cort moved around to press on Reilly's shoulders, taking a firm grip and looking down at her.

"Okie dokes, Doc."

Barrows slammed the Stimpak into her chest, and things rapidly spun out. Reilly jerked like she had been shot, flailing out both arms and violently whipping her head up, while Cort dodged it and crashed into the wall, yelping. "Oh no, not my nose _again, _no way."

Barrows narrowly dodged being punched where his nose had been, and grabbed the offending arm. "Reilly! Reilly, knock it off!" Cort made it off the wall in time to hang on to the woman's other arm before it connected with the doctor's neck.

"Yeah this was a freaking fantastic idea, Doc."

"Well, it was efficacious. Reilly, snap the fuck out of it!" Barrows yelled in her face and her expression finally cleared.

"I made it to Underworld?"

Cort spoke from somewhere near her armpit. "Well it's sure as hell not the Ritz. Can I let go now, or are you going to go loopy again?"

"What? Yes, let go! I have to get back to my men!" Reilly shot up and just as rapidly collapsed back down. "Fuck!"

"You're not about to go anywhere. You've been in a coma for close to a week." Barrows grabbed a bottle of water and gave it to her. "Thirsty, yes?"

Reilly grabbed it. "Yes, but you don't understand. I left my men on top of the Statesman Hotel, we were cornered by Super Mutants there. I snuck out using a Stealth Boy to get help, but one of the muties popped me before I could make it all the way out. I'm surprised I'm not dead in that culvert I fell into." She paused to greedily chug down the water.

"I understand you'll end up dead in another hole if you leave right now. You're in no condition to go anywhere. Your men will have to make out on their own for the time being." Barrows glared at her. "I'm not having another nutty smoothskin patient blowing out of here before they are entirely ready."

"Hey! I did just fine, thank you very much! And I haven't come back in here for ages aside from to hang out." Cort crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out at him, then staggered when Reilly grabbed her waistband and yanked.

"You, what are you doing?" She looked up at Cort, eyes burning. Cort slumped.

"I'm about to get sucked in again."


	25. You Know What That Represents, Right

**"Poor **Theo should be somewhere in this stairwell. Remember the code for the ammo box, and to come back to the Ranger Compound for payment." Cort was punching locations into her Pip-Boy as Reilly rattled off the last bits of information for her.

"Yeah, okay. I'll head there as soon as I finish with GNR's dish." Cort sighed. "It's on the way back to Chevy Chase anyway." Finishing up, she waved farewell to Barrows and headed back to retrieve her things, Charon and Dogmeat trailing after her. She trotted up the stairs, brooding. It was another delay, potentially a long one, but it really _was_ on the way to where she was going. There was also no way of knowing whether Three Dog knew her father's final location, or if it was another way point on the mad escapade her life had turned into. If it was only another temporary stop, Cort would need more caps to support herself and now Charon, and she clung to the responsibility like a lifeline. Entering through the back way to Carol's, she started slinging her armour back on and then Dogmeat's. _All the plating's fine, and I can sew up the bullet holes in our clothes after we stop for the night, whenever that is._

"You should not have permitted me to sleep for so long, _again_." Turning around to face Charon after he spoke, Cort looked at him, exasperated.

"If you're conking out for that long, then you're burning off one hell of an accumulated sleep debt. It's safe in here, and if I want to let you sleep, I'm going to let you sleep. I can manage without you while you do."

"Why the hell then, pray _tell_, did you buy my contract if you can manage without me?" Cort bit the inside of her cheek. The damned sneer was creeping back into the ghoul's face again.

"I bought your contract because I was too gutless to to it for somebody else. That, and I'm a sad sack of shit who has abandonment issues, _if _you haven't noticed, so you're pretty much the perfect person to knock around with. That answer work for you? 'Cause it better. Let's go."

* * *

**Paladin** Jeffries had it both better and worse than Stockholm back at Megaton. Both were tied to guard duty, but at least Stockholm was safe above everything for the most part. Jeffries however, had power armour. Stockholm's problem was crushing boredom. Jeffries' problem was that it was boring until something tried to crush _him_, or one of the other Brotherhood members stationed at the Washington Monument.

"Sir." Jeffries snapped out of his reverie. "Sir, there's ghouls moving up from the left."

"Well Initiate Trouse, how _many_ are moving?" Captain Jeffries would trade his last energy cell to be rotated back to the Citadel for a week, just to see if Trouse would shape up into something less clueless in the intervening time and save him some grief. He sincerely doubted there would be much difference even if he made the duration a full month.

"Two sir, and a dog. They're definitely moving towards us now Sir." Jeffries sighed. The kid was actually sounding _excited_.

"That must be what stirred the muties up on that side of the Mall earlier. Why the rotting bastards won's stay put in Underworld, I have no idea."

"Yes Sir. Should I fire on them Sir?"

Jeffries focused on where the Initiate was looking. There were two ghouls, a female in the lead with the aforementioned dog, and a male behind her. He frowned. One hell of a male, if he judged the first one's height right. The top of her helmet barely reached the level of the other's shoulders. Both were armed and armoured.

"Might as well, Trouse. They should all know better than to come near the Monument by now. Get some practice in with that Mini-Gun, hm? Try not to hit the dog." There was no way the idiot could miss with that piece of equipment.

"Yes Sir!" Jeffries watched the Initiate hoist the weapon into place and open fire. Wherever the ghouls had come from, they were surprisingly quicker than normal. He was fairly certain Trouse had missed both of them entirely, and the kid was waiting for instruction after the first pass had failed to hit anything. _Colour me surprised. Gunny really has to include more heavy weapons training before-_

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU ASSHOLES THINK YOU'RE DOING? I AM SO TELLING SARAH ON YOU." Jeffries swore and Trouse gave a tinny gulp as the female screeched at them from cover.

"Sir, that doesn't sound like a ghoul."

"I _noticed_, Initiate Trouse."

"Do you think she means Senti-"

"Shut _UP_, Initiate Trouse."

* * *

**Cort** and Charon had made it partway up the Mall without serious incident before a Super Mutant had popped out of one of the trenches and opened fire at them. Charon had shoved Cort hard and sent her sprawling face first into a puddle, right before bullets ripped up the sidewalk where she had been. She had crawled out of the ooze in time to retrieve her repeater and help finish the monstrosity off.

"What the fuck, Charon? _Look_ at me! I'm a fucking irradiated mudbug!"

He snarked back at her. "You're _welcome_."

Cort slatted at the muck covering her, deciding to leave it when she noticed that pushing at it was doing nothing but move it and the blood under it around. It was like dirt-ridden glue. "For fuck's sakes, I'm going to have to wait for this shit to dry and flake off."

"Would you rather I let you get shot?"

She looked at him sulkily. "No. What about you, did it hit you? Dogmeat?" A whuff.

"No." Cort stared at him. "Not enough to warrant stopping and staying exposed out here."

"Me either. Let's get over to the Monument, I want to talk to the Brotherhood members before I try to swan right up to the gate." Charon hesitated when she started moving again. "What?"

"The Brotherhood do not take kindly to ghouls. In point of fact, they generally try to blow our brains out."

"What? No, they're nice. Kinda arrogant, but they've always been okay to deal with."

Charon stared at her contemptuously. "Oh, and I fucking wonder why you'd notice a difference in behaviour out of them. Let me think."

Cort flushed under the mud and crossed her arms. "Alright fine. But they won't bother you with me here. I'm doing a job for Three Dog and I've got all the appropriate codes and _everything_, so they can't argue. Come on." She snorted a final bit of mud out of one nostril and started walking, creeping low against the shattered buildings.

Charon muttered and followed along behind her. _It won't be much of an argument if they don't let her get close enough to open her mouth._ He was proven unfortunately correct a few minutes later when both of them had flung themselves behind debris after being driven there by rapid fire. "I fucking told you. Didn't I just fucking _tell_ you."

Cort made a face at him, and snarled. "Yes, yes, you'll have a fine future career to look forward to as a fortune teller. Just give me a minute." Pulling in a lungful of air, Cort bellowed. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU ASSHOLES THINK YOU'RE DOING? I AM SO TELLING SARAH ON YOU." She waited, counting to ten and pulling more faces at Charon while she did.

A voice finally floated over to them. "State your business, civilian!"

"Oh for the love of- MY BUSINESS? Tell me, were you all not issued radios or are you too STUPID to check in? My business is to run up that damn phallus you're guarding and fix GNR's signal! Now can we come out or are you going to try, _badly_ by the way, to aerate us again?" Cort sucked her lips in and waited, looking at the sky while Charon shuffled over to sit next to her. The pause before the response this time was somewhat longer.

"Are you the Vault kid who brought down the Behemoth with Lyon's Pride?"

"YES!" Cort grinned wickedly when Charon's mouth dropped open at her. "Yeah I kinda glossed over that when I told you about finding GNR. Uhm, oops."

"All right, approach."

"Christ, not even a sorry. Come on, you two." She scrambled out and over their hidey-hole, Dogmeat on her heels and Charon more hesitantly afterward. Cort stalked up to the Brotherhood member who had opened fire on her, then stood with her fists on her hips. "Well? Want to explain why the fuck you were trying to kill my guard and I, not to mention my _dog_?"

"Uh, you're covered in mud." In spite of the shielding helmet, Trouse looked anywhere but at the girl, and definitely anywhere that wasn't at Paladin Jeffries. "I thought-"

"When I tell you to shut up Initiate, you will _stay _shut up, is that clear?"

"Sir, yes, Sir!"

The other Brotherhood member swung around to look at Cort. "Just a simple misunderstanding Miss. You can't expect to travel with something like that and not draw unwanted responses." He jerked his head towards Charon. Cort hooked her thumbs over her belt and smiled, looking up at him.

"So what was your name?"

"Paladin Jeffries, Miss."

"Right. I'll remember that. I'll remember that _extremely_ well." Cort cocked her head and started laughing. It didn't sound like anything Jeffries wanted to join into, and he became increasingly alarmed as it didn't stop. He had halfway made up his mind to slap the girl when she quit abruptly and hiccuped. "Paladin Jeffries, right."

The Brotherhood members watched as she walked towards the gate terminal and began tapping away at it, one of them on the other side hissing at Charon.

"What happened to your nose, rotface?"

The ghoul glowered and snarled back. "Your wife got a little excited. She closed her legs too fast." Cort slapped a hand over her mouth and fizzed while hitting the execute key.

"Come on Charon, let's leave the toy soldiers alone. Maybe some day they'll grow up and Sarah will take them out to do _big_ boy things." She slipped sideways through the opening gate, punched the closing code on the inside terminal and headed towards the elevator, both companions trailing behind.

* * *

**Charon **looked at Cort where she was slumped sideways against the wall of the degrading elevator, the evening sunlight dappling through holes in the sides of the Monument and turning everything golden.

"I'm sorry, you were right. They're fucking assholes. At least _those_ ones definitely are." She fell silent again until they reached the top, coming out into a roughly square area centered by the elevator shaft column, the relay station to the left of the doors. Cort slung her pack onto a table on the other side and took her helmet off, then started stripping off her armour. Charon rapidly moved to the other side of the column when everything else started following it, and she snorted. "_You're_ the one who put me in the mud." Sitting on the edge of the table, Cort delicately pulled out a gun magazine after draping her clothes over the chairs, and waited for the mud to dry up entirely. "I'm not naked, you know, there's still my skivvies. You can come out without risking personal mortification, mine or yours."

His voice floated out from around the corner. "I'm fine _here_, thanks." Charon stayed resolutely behind the other wall and started tending to his scrapes.

Cort grinned and went back to her reading until the light started to fail, then vigorously slapped the dirt from herself. _Grazes have scabbed over. That's a plus at least_. Digging around in her pack, she looked for something clean to change into, pulling out her mended Vault suit and clean underwear. "Well, it'll cover everything and it's warm enough. Most importantly, it doesn't _stink_. Thank God Wadsworth got those stains out." Cort stared at her suit. Something was nagging at the back of her mind, but she couldn't place what and dismissed it. After dressing, Cort put her pack on the ground, placing the lantern on the table and turning it on. "Come on out Charon. I'm dressed, and it's time for supper."

The ghoul edged out and walked over, sitting down at the table and watching her pull out food and dirty water. "Are we not installing the dish tonight?"

"No. I'm tired, it's dark and I don't want to climb out there while either one of them is occurring. It would be completely typical for me to do something stupid like fall or drop the dish if I rushed ahead and did it now." She shoved a package of snack cakes and a Mutfruit across to him, and started munching on dried noodles after putting down a Salisbury Steak and a bowl of water for Dogmeat. Charon started stripping his shotgun and pistol down on the table after he finished, Cort staring at the wall and plucking at her faded blue sleeves. Wordlessly, he reached over and started work on her three guns when he had completed his own. "Thanks." Charon grunted in reply, and they went back to sitting in silence, Cort leaning against the wall. Eventually, she nodded off in the chair, lulled by the quiet clicks of the ghoul working.

Charon looked over at her when he had finished with everything and scowled. _Kid's going to be stiff as a fucking board when she wakes up. That'll _really_ help her scramble around on the scaffolding. And probably make her bitch all morning._ "Cort. Cort. Wake up."

"Lemmielone." She went back to snoring

"Cort!"

"Lemmie_fuck_alone." This slur was particularly more cranky. Charon frowned. If he woke her up after that the chances of her having another fit at him was definitely more probable. He had decided at some point earlier to find more self-restraint when dealing with her. If he continued to wind her up he might prompt her to become senselessly erratic, and she was loopy enough as it was. That laughing shit had been _alarming_, and was more pronounced now than it had been in the MoT. Charon wasn't sure if his undisciplined behaviour was prompting any of it or not, but didn't want to risk it. He spent another half hour listening to the wheels turn in his own head.

_Oh, the hell with it_. She was light enough, and if she didn't mind touching him, she probably wouldn't mind him touching her. Cort had held her arms out willingly enough to be plucked off the lander; he could certainly move her off a chair to save himself some damned whining the next day. Charon got up and slid an arm beneath her shoulders and knees, then quickly and smoothly deposited her on the mattress shoved in between the support struts next to the table. Dogmeat came over to him and whuffed.

"Well get in. I'm sure as fuck _not_." He watched the dog lie down next to the girl and returned to the table, pulling over Cort's discarded magazine and flipping it open. He could find a spot on the floor later when he got tired, and settled down to read.

* * *

**Dogmeat** was considering things. His world had picked up another moon. So far he was reserving judgment; this one also appeared vested in protecting her and did a good job, but seemed to make her frequently angry. The dog wasn't quite sure why he kept doing it, it seemed silly behaviour for an otherwise good moon. The new one was risking the 'bad' word, although Dogmeat had yet to hear it come out of her, directed towards either of them. He preened and whuffed to himself. Of course not directed at him. He was _best_. He would wait for further instructions, if she gave them, and until then act as he had been told towards the other.

After the figure in the chair had been slumped over for a while, the dog trotted over and put his front paws on the table, then poked the lantern out. _Neither_ of them apparently knew how to do this before sleeping. He crawled back into bed with his world, huffed, snuggled, and fell asleep.

.

* * *

_Psst, want a 25th chapter reward? Go check out my profile to see what Cort looks like. Oh, she's going to go places! Quickie sketch I did when FF wouldn't let me upload anything for like half an hour._


	26. Death by Congratulation

**"Charon**. Charon, wake up. It's morning." Cort was hovering over him, getting ready to flick his cheek. Charon jerked awake before she could, then groaned at the movement.

"I feel like shit."

"Well, then why did you fall asleep in a damn chair? That's what you get, fussbudget. Have the sense to lay down like I did." He glared at her. "Come on, crankypants, I'm ready to start on this stupid dish." Cort had changed back into the shirt and cargos that went under her combat armour, and had two ropes looped around her waist. Charon got up, popping his neck and shoulders, then followed her over to the relay station. She leaned over the safety wall and whistled. "Long, long way down. Splat. Okay, Charon, come here and hold onto this longer rope."

Taking the proffered end, he looked at her. "You're not seriously going to climb out on that thing."

"Yes, I am, there's no way to reach it from here, I figured it all out last night. I'm not strong enough to keep you from falling, so out I go." Charon wrapped the rope around his arm as Cort leaned out and grabbed the scaffolding bolted to the side of the Monument, then hooked a leg around part of it. Reaching around, she looped the second rope through a joint several times and tied it back around her waist. "Okay, now pass me the dish." He handed it up and watched her silently, listening to her occasional quiet profanities as she fiddled with her screwdriver and handfuls of assorted wiring. Continuing to discretely pop any complaining joints, Charon relaxed. This was one of the less insane things the kid had gotten up to, in terms of risking her personal safety. He tightened his grip on the rope. At least she was taking sensible precautions with this, and looking over the Mall from this high at sunrise with the kid rimmed in it was almost pretty, when you forgot about all the death down-

"There, finished." Cort pushed on something and it gave a small click, then jumped when the signal box on the relay station blared out a second later. "Waugh!"

"_People of the Capital Wasteland, you can HEAR MEEEE! Yeeeaa haaaa! You can't stop the signal, baby! That's right, from Megaton to Girdershade, Paradise Falls to the Republic of Dave, we are coming to you loud and proud, in a special live report!"_

Charon had come within an inch of shooting the speakers out, and was pressed against the wall, snarling. "_Fuck's_ sakes!"

"Charon. Charon. You're pulling too much, let up, let up _let up_!" He spun back around the corner and relaxed the rope immediately. Cort was clinging to the scaffolding, being pulled between the ropes on the bars and the rope in his hand and wheezing from the strain.

"Sorry. The fucking radio." Cort coughed and spat after the tension on her midriff had been relaxed.

"I know, it freaked the shit out of me too, would've been nice to know THAT was going...to...hap...what the hell is he saying." Cort untied herself from the joint she was secured to and scrambled back into the Monument as Three Dog continued to talk.

"_...YOU know I can hear you, all the way out here in the ass end of nowhere? Because of the kid from Vault 101, that's how! That gal Cort actually managed to repair our antenna relay, my board just lit up like crazy a few moments ago. How's that for ingenuity, folks? From here on in, it's bye-bye stupid static, hello magnificent music. So sit back, relax, and absorb these classic tunes. Kid, you get your ass back to GNR, you hear me? We've got some stuff to talk about!_"

Cort started hiccuping. "Do you know what this means?"

Charon considered shooting the signal box out for her and settled for turning it off, not wanting to spook her further. "Yeah. It means that every single fucking shitstain in the Wasteland, including the fucking Talons, knows where you are now and where you're going thanks to that fuckstick."

"Yes. We have to get moving. At least they don't know I'm going to Vernon Square." Cort started ramming things back into her pack.

"You're _still_ going to go through with that after this?"

"Yes, I'm still going to go through with that. Reilly thinks we're going to help her, and I am. I said I would. Besides it would be nice to have mercenaries that _like_ me out here, and aren't trying to get me all...bloody." Cort stared at her Vault suit, having paused while shoving it away. "Oh, no."

"What? Will you get your damn armour on already?" Charon was waiting by the elevator with Dogmeat, combat shotgun already in hand. Cort grabbed her armour and started whipping it into place.

"We're stopping at Underworld first. I need to talk to Barrows."

"For fuck's sakes, do you want to get moving or run in circles?"

"It'll be in and out." Cort slapped her helmet on and grabbed her repeater. "Let's go."

* * *

**Apparently**, there had been Talon Company within range of the Monument when Three Dog's celebratory broadcast went out. After making it back into the Museum Metro, Cort and Charon not giving the Brotherhood a second glance upon leaving, they had run almost immediately into another squad. Thankfully it was dark enough for them to be confused by the matching armour and the shield Cort had retied firmly over her Pip-Boy.

"Hey, which unit are you? Have you seen Cort yet?" The leader hissed at them.

"Every day in the mirror." Cort fired almost simultaneously with Charon, and then closed on the mercs as Dogmeat ripped open the inside of one of their thighs. When it was over they stripped the bodies of anything useful, loading up any spare space on all of them with extra plates, then moved on to Underworld.

Charon stood by the statue in the concourse, trying not to fidget. The kid had blown through like a freight train and made directly for the clinic, Reilly and Nurse Graves ejecting from it like their asses were on fire a few minutes and some muffled yelling later. He heard the lock click behind them.

"Let's just practice with those crutches while they chat, huh human? We'll try making it to the atrium and back." Swiveling his head to watch the nurse and the other smoothskin go by, Charon looked down when the dog whined from his feet again. This was the reason for him being twitchy. She never left the dog behind when she went somewhere, familiar or no. This time she had told them both to stay put here. He turned his head back to the door and waited.

Cort came out close to an hour later, her eyes bloodshot. "Okay, let's get going."

"What the fuck was that about?" He lengthened his stride to keep up with the pace she was setting.

"Nothing."

"Like hell nothing, look at you."

"I don't want to talk about it. What do you care, anyway. Let's go kill some shit." Charon bristled and followed her back to the Metro.

Cort was silent the entire way to Vernon Square. Metro Central had had a few raiders move back in, and the ferals in Freedom Street were almost literally crawling the walls. Charon hated the things, seeing them as a preview into his own possible future hell; the girl seemed to be taking her loathing to an entirely different level. He had shot more than one off of Cort when she had resorted to strangling them instead of using any of her guns. She had just picked herself up each time and continued walking, not bothering to wipe the rotten blood off herself, letting it slip off on its own. Crazily, they had found a scavenger merchant down in one of the rooms, unbelievably trying to set up shop in the dank labyrinth. Cort had ignored his hails and pushed through on her way to the correct exit. Charon grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked back when she made to walk directly out into the open.

"Stop being a fucking idiot. You're bleeding all over and we need to repair and reload shit. You haven't even _eaten_ yet today." He scowled at her as she turned back for him and waited for the snappy comeback. It didn't happen.

"Okay." Cort sat down, cleaned off and started working, gradually rising back out of herself as she did. "Reilly said there were an awful lot of mutants outside, and I don't think dragging them into the building after us would be very good, especially since there's more inside. So we just keep sneaking around like we have been and pop the bastards when they're not looking."

Charon mentally shook his head and just let the entire afternoon go. Whatever had driven her off her rocker was apparently resolving itself and he didn't feel like bringing it back. "That, and wait for nightfall. The darker it is, the easier time we'll have. Not like we're going to have trouble seeing the snotbags in the dark, they're fucking huge. Even _you_ can't miss that."

"When the fuck do I ever miss? You're one to judge accuracy, you use a Goddamned scatter gun."

"At least it's not a fucking antique like that clunky repeater."

"Clunky? Wait, everything _out _here is a fucking antique! Leave my rifle alone, eat your damn..." Cort scrambled around in her pack, then tossed a can at him. "Pork N' Beans." Charon did with a small amount of satisfaction, watching her eat two cans of Cram with the dog, alternating handfuls. If she was back to being testy at him she was back to whatever approached normal for her, at least in his narrow range of experience. He remained silent until she had finished performing her remaining tasks, then spoke up again.

"What is your plan for going through the Hospital?"

"Don't get smooshed? Kill everything in the way, and pick up as many goodies as we can find, there should be _lots_. We're probably going to get hurt again, and I bet the rest of the Rangers aren't feeling too hot to trot at the moment so we'll scour through everything. We'll have to go slow anyway to avoid the traps Reilly said they left behind them." She sighed and leaned back against the tunnel wall, looking out into the growing dusk. "When the hell did all this become so matter of fact for me?"

Charon, not knowing how to answer the question, or even sure it had been directed at him and not rhetorical, remained silent, staring at Cort in the fading light. Pushing up when he could no longer make out her face, he slung his pack back on. "We should go now."

The trio eased out of the Metro and down a long shattered corridor of buildings lined by the crumbled girders and walls of the upper floors, creeping towards the entrance to Our Lady of Hope. The dappled moonlight made variegated patterns of shadow that Cort reveled in. Improving her stealth and killing things before they knew she was there had become an almost physical high, and Charon being able to move even more silently than she could only amplified it and her desire to do better. It made her feel in control and invincible. _At least until I get shot up, anyway. Which oddly hasn't happened yet. Wait, I'm unsettled because there's _nothing_ shooting at me. Great. Perfect. I am so totally well-adjusted right now. _Cort frowned and peeked at her Pip-Boy, firmly ignoring the bloody hand print smeared on the door to the Hospital next to her face.

"There's nothing near us here, and nothing directly inside the building. Wherever the mutants are at, they're not here." Charon shuffled next to her and looked at the screen.

"They may be clustered towards the Statesman. The Rangers have probably been shooting long enough to get their full attention."

Cort rolled her eyes. "Oh _fantastic_." She pushed the door open and they all slipped into a long lobby, windows flanking their right side. There was a depressing amount of pre-war skeletons on the floor, but nothing else inhabiting the space. After rifling through the entry desk and cabinets, Cort nudged open the interior door to peek through, and immediately started to choke to death.


	27. Retching and Recrimination

**Charon** looked up when he heard gagging coming from the corner, wondering what could possibly make someone who sucked the crud out of radroach legs and ignored feral blood facials on occasion want to puke. What it _was_ was a Centaur, all three tongues wrapped around Cort's head and neck as she flailed at it.

"_FUCK_!" Both the ghoul and the dog bolted for the pair, who were rapidly moving into the room, Cort being pushed backwards by the hideous chimera with her legs dragging underneath it.

Dogmeat tore into the side of the monster's neck, savaging it as Charon pressed the barrel of his shotgun into the side away from Cort and the dog and fired. Chunks and ropey strings of entrails splattered against the wall as Cort collapsed to the floor, still wheezing, the head torn from the Centaur's body on her chest. Her lips were turning blue as she scrabbled at her neck, one eye rolling desperately onto Charon, the other blocked from sight by one of the disgusting tongues.

"_Fucking_ head won't let the fuck go!" The dog was in total hysterics, not able to latch on without biting down into Cort. Charon pulled out his combat knife and sliced the head free from the tongues, then swore even harder. "Fucking tongues won't let go, _FUCK_!" Cort's visible eye started rolling back into her head and she writhed even harder, grasping at his legs. Charon knelt and ran a hand over his face, thinking rapidly, then buried it firmly into his employer's hair. "Hold still." Visibly straining to, she quieted as much as possible as he started slicing through the slimy ropes of tissue crisscrossing her neck. Finally cutting through all of the tough flesh, he let go as Cort rolled into his knees and hurled the contents of her stomach across the torn linoleum, whooping in gales of breath between the expulsions. Charon grabbed hold of the remaining severed chunks stuck to her face and flung them against the wall.

Giving one final heave, Cort rested her forehead against the side of his leg. "What the hell was that."

"That was a Centaur. May I suggest _not_ putting your fool head directly next to a door while we're fucking around with Super Mutants." Cort pushed away and glared at him, wiping her mouth.

"I didn't hear it."

"You won't in the best of circumstances until they're right on top of you. Even the mutt didn't. They're not very dangerous, but the spidery little fuckers are quiet, and they hear _everything_. Mutants use them as some kind of fucked up guard dog." Charon stood up and held a hand out, hauling Cort up in one motion when she grabbed it. Wobbling, she started scraping the irradiated saliva off of her neck and face, dimly taking note of the few shallow wounds received from the knife. Suffocating apparently cut down on her ability to stop squirming entirely.

"Yeah, real not dangerous."

"Well, most people try to avoid fucking frenching them."

"Most people probably know they exist. Maybe cause someone _tells_ them they do." Cort coughed and spat into the dark, leaning slightly to pet Dogmeat, who was still quietly whining. "Momma's okay." Shaking her head to clear it, she retrieved her repeater and helmet from where they had skidded, then moved towards the door. "Christ, let's get this over with."

* * *

**The** next room turned out to be a small cafeteria and they raided the vending machines, Cort greedily chugging down a Nuka Cola from one of them to get rid of the filthy taste in her mouth. Quietly placing the bottle down, she pocketed the cap and moved deeper into the building. After a few degraded rooms, they emerged into a cavernous atrium leading deeper into the Hospital. Narrowing her eyes, Cort leveled her repeater and flipped up the sight. There was movement at the far end, partly illuminated by light filtering through the towering sets of windows to the right. Blinking rapidly, she waited for the shape to resolve itself and then fired, smiling when it collapsed. She turned to stick her tongue out at Charon and then started creeping towards a nearby door after consulting her Pip-Boy.

Opening it, she was delighted. "Ooh. Terminals." Cort bee-lined for the brightly lit one and started ripping through its protocols, tapping her tongue on the front of her teeth. Moments later, they heard the sound of turret fire from outside, along with mutants bellowing. Smiling blissfully, Cort waited for the noise to stop. "No more turrets, less intact mutants. Perfect." She moved over when Charon beckoned her to the other one. "What's the spinny thing on the top?"

"Something you'd probably kill yourself with because it fascinated you. Turn your light on and shield it from the door, it's lesson time." Cort watched intently as Charon taught her how to disable the booby-trapped terminal and then retrieved the frag grenade. He had decided to take the initiative on anything he hadn't seen with her or heard her mention after the Centaur incident. "Some of them won't wait for you to turn them off, so if you hear beeping when you see them, act quick or fucking run. Better yet, fucking run and come get me." After finishing up and breaking into a safe on the wall, they moved back to the door, Cort frowning at her Pip-Boy.

"There's at least three more out there at the far end. They must have come down after I shot the first one." Cort bit her lip. "Grenades and then shoot?"

"Yes." Charon pulled out the one he had just taken from the terminal and two others. "I can throw farther than you. Get ready to take their heads off." Opening the door and crouching forward, Cort followed and then braced on one knee, sighting down the hall. Charon pulled the pins and hurled them towards the mutants, who turned to face the clattering noise they made when they landed between them, Cort firing rapidly before they exploded. They waited a moment in silence after the echos had died down, then reloaded when nothing moved.

All three of them scrabbled through the debris and rotting desks lining the huge room, pulling out anything useful. Cort started plunging her arms in the the net bags of rotting body parts after Dogmeat had pawed at one of them, and Charon found a large cache of ammunition in one of the corners. Coming around to scavenge the downed mutants, Cort swore quietly. _A freaking Mini-Gun. We got very very lucky._ Scanning it, she quickly read through the manual, turning to the ghoul when he came out of the darkness. "Do you know how to use one of these things?"

"Not well."

"Neither do I, and I don't think I want to try and learn on the fly in here, especially with the warm up period." Cort looked around and then switched out her repeater for the Chinese assault rifle after observing the closer quarters coming up. "Let's go clear those corridors before heading upstairs. Sign says there's treatment rooms and surgery down there, has to be some nice stuff."

* * *

**Moving** through decrepit rooms and hallways and occasionally blasting at Super Mutants, plus another Centaur(Cort beating this to an absolute pulp after Charon shot it), they found a plethora of supplies, strewn in cabinets, first aid boxes, safes and caches from previous visitors. All of their packs were nearly filled even after using up a portion of them to treat themselves, and they became relaxed enough to fuss at each other.

"Would you stop pissing your damn pants every time you bump into an old stiff?"

"They wig me out, why do they have to twitch if you even tap them?"

"Because they really _really_ like you and feel like having a slow dance."

"Oh God, no. Nonono."

They found a Mister Handy in one locked room filled with first aid boxes, which Cort nearly shot until she realized it was non-hostile. She followed it bemusedly on its ancient rounds for a little while, acting as if it was still treating people, until she became too depressed to look at it any longer and started to hiccup. "Let's head upstairs Charon, we've cleared everything."

Reaching the top, she paused when her Pip-Boy quietly beeped. Charon leaned forward to peer at it.

"What is it?"

Cort spun the volume dial down and punched a button, quiet static pouring out of the speaker before she turned it off again. "New radio signal, really low transmission strength. 'Ranger Emergency Frequency'." She leaned against the wall, frowning. Static probably wasn't good, but they'd made it this far towards their goal. Shrugging, she hoisted her assault rifle and moved towards the door. "Well, we might as well keep going. Made it this far, and it doesn't mean they're dead for sure."

Dogmeat started pawing at his face as soon as they entered the new area, and Charon tugged back on Cort's sleeve. "Gas leak. See the shimmer? Watch this." Pulling out his 10mm, he shot into the hallway, and Cort grinned and clapped softly as the entire back length lit up, torching another Centaur. After ranging through the rest of the floor and clearing it of the remaining mutants, they found an even larger cafeteria than the one below, and loaded the last of their pack space with food. Locating a door back outside to Vernon Square on the blasted side of the Hospital, Cort squinted into the night and sighed heavily. Today had been far too long and she was getting cranky.

"Okay, well here's the collapsed radio tower Reilly talked about. Let's play spider, shall we?" Cort going first, Charon nudged the dog in front of him as they carefully crawled over to the other side, Dogmeat nimbly placing his paws on the slats and bars. This was another reason he had suggested taking this on at night, going over this thing in daylight was begging to be shot up like a damned tin can for target practice. He lowered the dog to Cort after she had swung down, then dropped beside her on the Statesman side.

Nudging open the door into the hotel, he waved them both forward. "Nothing." They walked onto the remaining ledge of what had been an upper room, hidden from view from the one below it. Cort stripped off her pack and laid her gun down, Charon frowning at her. "What. Are you doing."

"I'm going to check out the rest of this little area, nosy. There's nothing on my Pip-Boy and I want to confirm something Reilly told me." Cort dug a rope out, handed it to him, and slipped down. "Just lift me up when I come back. Stay, Dogmeat." Cort skittered over the ruined carpet and around the corner, trying not to sneeze as she knocked the yellowing wallpaper on it loose. One end was collapsed and the other had a dead Super Mutant with two still very active frag grenade traps in front of the only other door. "Perfect." She ran back and let Charon pull her up. "There's only one way in here, aside from the door we came in, and it's booby trapped. I want to have a little rest and maybe eat something again before we get shot at some more." Slumping against the wall, she yawned deeply and then rubbed vigorously at her neck, grumbling.

"Neck still hurt? We _do_ have a shitload of Med-X, _if_ you can figure out which way it goes in." Tired out, starving and in a dirty mood, Cort snapped back at him much harder than she meant to.

"No, it's just itchy from where you cut me up, you fucking idiot. I'll take care of that particular matter _after_ we're finished with all the heavy lifting." Charon jerked back so hard his head rebounded off the wall and she looked over at him, exasperated. "If you just gave yourself a fucking headache, don't bitch at me for it later." Cort removed the cover and fiddled with her Pip-Boy before flopping over on her pack, pushing her helmet to the side. "I'll leave the clock on display. Wake me in two hours, and then you can sleep for two hours, and then we'll eat and go." Taking his silence for agreement, she fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

**When** her quiet snores had started, Charon shuffled carefully over and looked at her neck in the dim light starting to come from under the door. Swearing under his breath, he felt a cold weight settle somewhere into his gut. He _had_ cut her; counting he found at least half a dozen short slices and nicks running from the base to up her right ear. Some were weeping again from her pawing at them earlier. That was it then. Directly injuring his employer was inexcusable. He should have been more careful, pulled the lantern out to see better, or just formulated another plan that did _not_ involve sawing his knife around her fucking _head_. And she was going to take care of him later when she could afford to, after they had finished with this particular mission. He'd known it, just _known_ that sooner or later the hammer would have to come down on him. It always did, sooner or later from every employer, _especially_ the smoothskins. The amount of freedom he'd been allowed to have after so long had lulled him into a false sense of security and resulted in something that had never happened before. Something that was _forbidden_ to happen.

Fighting down panic, Charon briefly considered letting her sleep through the entire four hours she had decided to set aside as penance, then dismissed it. It hadn't been a direct order, but following a serious transgression with another one of any size would only compound what she would do to him later. Staring at the wall gloomily, he went over every possible punishment he could think of in his head. They ranged from simple ones, like forced exercise until exhaustion, to one excruciating experience when he had been directed to roll in broken glass over and over by an employer who figured out physical violence had to be physically _from _them to invalidate his contract.

Gnawing away at him most of all was the knowledge that he wasn't exactly sure what to expect from Cort. Vault dwellers had always been known for being notoriously unstable, and she was not proving to be an exception. While generally mild-tempered in his limited experience, Cort could be wildly erratic in her responses to things. One minute she was calmly executing some well thought out plan, and the next going completely ballistic when something set her off. Charon groaned and rested his head against the wall. _Too much. Way too much._

_

* * *

_

_Those damn skeletons DID wig me the hell out the first time around. One touch and they'd fling into your face. At least enemies would show up in V.A.T.S., those things were just evil. _


	28. Weary Hysteria

**Cort **woke up equally cranky as when she had laid down. Motioning to Charon to take his turn, she hauled out a Nuka Cola along with a few magazines and her lantern, shielding the light from the ghoul on the far side of her. He hadn't spoken or even looked at her directly after waking her up, and figured he was still cross over her snapping earlier and calling him an idiot. She thinned her lips and stared at his back. _Two steps forward, one step back, and around, around we go._ Briefly considering flipping on the radio to help her stay awake, Cort decided she would prefer not listen to the Enclave pontificate or Three Dog possibly giving away more information about her. If he was, she would rather be in the dark about it. Grabbing a piece of jagged plaster, she settled for wedging it somewhere uncomfortable under her back to stay alert. Once they were finished with the Rangers, she was going to find a very nice secure room to dig into and sleep until she was done. Today, or yesterday depending on how she looked at it, had been very, very long. The next one was probably going to shape up to be just as much of a drag.

Flipping through a new D.C. Journal of Internal Medicine she had found in the Hospital, Cort waited for the minutes to wind down. A quarter hour before it was time to wake Charon, she started pulling out various food items. _If we're going to go haring around like loons again, we might as well do it full this time._ Cort filled Dogmeat's bowl with Cram and Mac N' Cheese, replacing it with water when he finished, then opened the same for herself and Charon as well as the last two Nuka Colas.

"Charon, wake up. Charon. Char-" Cort started mildly as the ghoul shot up straight at her gentle patting. "Jeeze, jumpy. Sit down and eat yours."

* * *

**After** finishing, all three of them dropped down to the lower level. There were lights still on in the building, covering everything in a sickening dirty glow. Charon quietly showed her how to disarm the grenades around the door and they moved into the next section. The hotel was much, much worse than Our Lady of Hope. Walls had collapsed, turning the entire floor into nothing but gaping holes and dead ends stinking of rotting plaster and ancient wood, the piles under their feet shifting and announcing their position. The only reason they were ready for the Super Mutants coming for them were their thumping steps and tendency to bellow, and all three were shot more than once on the way to the upper floors. Cort was kept busy pulling bullets out and jamming Stimpaks into all of them, while Charon continued to disarm multiple traps. The Rangers had even gone so far as to rig up toilets to deliver a shock if they were used as a water source. She understood why it would work, after all the fighting her nose and throat felt rimed in the dry rotted dust their feet kicked up from the floors, and her companions couldn't be making out much better.

Along with the ones they themselves were killing, there were dead mutants everywhere, and Cort found Theo buried under one of them in a stairwell. Popping open the ammo box, she wordlessly split up the contents between Charon and herself and moved on. Cort scooped things up as she saw them, food, Stimpaks, ammo, even a holodisk buried under a skeleton. Going forward on auto-pilot, Charon was the only reason she didn't blunder into more than one tripwire. _I will have a very, very long sleep, Dogmeat will have a very long sleep and Charon will too whether he likes it or not._

_

* * *

_

"**Alfresco**. We're getting close." Cort croaked out the statement in a whisper, then turned her head and snorted violently, spraying wet dust and blackened mucus onto the floor. Entering the restaurant, they slid down a collapsed floor into the level below it, then were forced to climb back out on the other side into a gas-laden kitchen. Muffling their faces to pass through, they came to a gaming room next, the worst area they had yet to encounter. The place was a literal pit, pool tables and a bar in the bottom and a raised walkway around the entire circumference. Charon and Cort were pinned down outside the door they had opened, him throwing grenades and her drawing beads with the repeater, firing whenever she had a clear head shot. Chunks of pool balls and flesh flew everywhere. At some point a piece of shrapnel went through the jukebox and switched it on, layering everything with Three Dog's howling and Butcher Pete, which came on precisely when Cort was shot through the left shoulder. Laughing wildly, she crossed her right arm over, pulled her pistol loose and continued firing. Charon grabbed her wrist a moment later.

'They're all dead. Stop."

Cort groaned and slumped forward. "Oh thank God and little green apples for that. Please drag me over to the bar so I can drop dead on it."

"You're joking."

"Probably joking about dropping dead. Not about the dragging, I'm pretty dizzy." Charon pulled her loose from her pack and helped her slide up onto the bar, then set the pack beside her. Cort spent the next ten minutes pulling things out of herself and injecting things back in, then gave the ghoul and Dogmeat the same treatment. Collapsing backwards she sighed, then looked at them. "What do you say we just kinda sit here for a few minutes."

"As you wish." Cort rolled her head around, watching him walk around the room and scavenging through the debris and closets, putting various things into their packs. When he was next to the jukebox, he turned to her and raised both eyebrows in question.

"Oh, _please_." Cort closed her eyes and grinned when he shot it out and it finally fell silent. Sliding off the bar top a few moments later, she rolled her shoulder and winced. "Basically fine, but my accuracy is shot for the day." Cort waited for Charon to snipe through the opening she left and frowned when he didn't. He was still clammed up. _Tired or still pissed off. Whatever it is I'll have to figure it out later._ Settling her heavy pack in place after reloading, she switched out the repeater for the assault rifle again and headed up.

* * *

**The **roof was an area of white walls and columns open to the sky. Cort let her breath out in a whoop, grateful to finally be outside again, then snapped her head around when the sounds of gunfire reached her. Breaking into a jagged run, they reached a staircase leading to a patio just as a Super Mutant rolled down it in pieces. She cautiously walked up the steps, Charon and Dogmeat behind her, then waved when she saw figures, _human_ figures all in green combat armour, at the other end. One of them yelled at her when she was halfway to the other side.

"Hey you, get your ass over here before you attract every mutie in the building!" Cort walked over to the man, tall with a sandy brush cut, and fumed.

"Excuse fucking me? I just spent the last _two days_ ploughing through the ones you dragged in here on your ass, so don't talk to me about attracting the bastards." Ignoring her outburst, he leaned towards her.

"You knew we were up here? When are the reinforcements coming?"

"They just did. Howdy-do."

"You're _it_?" Cort bit the inside of her cheek and counted to ten. The last thing she needed to do was start a pissing match, especially when she was so tired.

"Yes, I'm it. Reilly seemed to have no problem with me being it when she found me in Underworld, and since I made it the fuck up here, how about you don't have a problem with it either. I've been shot, strangled, shot, beaten, shot, vomited, cut and shot again getting up here to you, as well as my friends being filled with holes, on two hours of sleep in two days, so how about we just leave now. Please and thank you."

"If Reilly sent you, then that's good enough for me. I'm Butcher, the team medic. That redhead over there is Brick, our heavy weapons specialist, and Donovan is our tech. He's working on the way to get us off of here right now, through the service elevator." Cort followed behind him as he turned towards the dark-haired man at the far right. "How are you doing with fixing that thing?"

"Not good. There's no power running up to this part of the Hotel. I need an external source for it, like a fission battery." Cort swung around in place.

"Charon! Do we have a fission battery?" the ghoul looked up from where he had been poking around the various corpses and rasped.

"There was one in the gaming room. It's in the top of your pack." Cort slung it off her back with a crash, motioning him over to do the same.

"We've got other things too, actually." She dug the battery out, then started pulling things loose and untying boxes. "Who wants ammo?"

"Oh _Hell_ yes! Eugene's nearly runnin' dry!" Brick ambled over happily with her Mini Gun, which Cort distractedly assumed was the Eugene she mentioned, and handed her cases of 5mm rounds.

"Go nuts, I don't use these right now." She smiled as the woman whooped. Passing out the remainder of Theo's load, along with some food and medical supplies, she wandered around the rest of the patio examining things while Donovan worked. In one corner she found scattered music books, and grabbed them for Agatha. _I need to go do that sometime soon. Not today. I am way, way too thrashed out to tackle anything extra today, Stimpaks or no. I don't think I was even this tired coming into Underworld the first time._ Cort leaned against one of the columns, not willing to risk sitting down. She felt dangerously wiped out, and stayed still until Donovan called everyone over.

Entering the lobby turned out to be a shit show. All of them were shot up again with the exception of Dogmeat, who Cort had instructed to stay back. She didn't doubt that at least one of them would've ended up dead if it hadn't been for Brick mowing the hell out of the entire room while everyone else gave cover fire for her. After Butcher and Cort worked on everyone and repairs were made, the Rangers set back for their home base, Butcher having a word with her before they left.

"Thanks are very much in order, kid. Here's the password for the Compound, and something extra from me. We're going to head back direct and see if Reilly's made it home yet. Stop in as soon as you can and she'll pay you good for this." Cort took the bag of caps he proffered and thanked him, then watched them pile out the doors, following a moment later when she didn't hear any more shooting.

* * *

**Cutting** around the corner of the Hotel and Our Lady of Hope, they headed back to where they had entered Vernon Square, then followed the Pip-Boy's map to the Metro Junction and descended into it. The few raiders and ferals they ran into felt like chump change to Cort after the last 48 hours, and they passed by in a blur, thankfully not interrupted by more Talon Company.

Emerging at Chevy Chase East, they slowly made their way across the Plaza, Cort deviating to kick the rotting corpse of the Behemoth, and Charon to stare at it incredulously before turning to follow her. Dogmeat paused to lift a leg against it before trotting after both of them.

Rocking back on her heels when the Brotherhood members stationed outside raised their weapons, Cort stripped her Pip-Boy bare and lit it, waggling her arm over her head. "Just me." She staggered forward when they waved her up and into the GNR building. She was close to sobbing as she made her way to the last set of stairs to the studio. _Finally. Fucking finally. I'm coming, Dad. I'm so tired. And you better have a good explanation._

_

* * *

_

_Wow, what a slog. Exactly how that hotel made me feel in game, you could get sick spinning in circles in there. There should be at least one chapter before Monday, and then I'm on a training course, so don't expect too many updates for a week after that. :)_


	29. Tired Contentment

_Thanks so much for the new favourites and reviews guys! _

* * *

**Charon** stood in the corner of the studio with Dogmeat, watching the scene between Cort and Three Dog play out. The ghoul was tired, and sincerely hoped that whatever punishment was coming his way would be taken care of tonight while the girl was worn out. She would be more inclined to do something uncomplicated, and he was in a perfect position at this point not to care about what happened. Everything hurt already. Glancing down briefly when the dog slumped against his legs, he looked back up to his employer as she wound herself up even higher.

"Do you have any idea what that nutty broadcast did to me? I've got Talon Company after me and you go ahead and proclaim my Goddamned location to _everyone_!" Cort clenched the back of a chair and glared at him. Wanting to have as much level eye contact as possible, she still needed to hang on to something to keep from wobbling on her feet.

"Hey kid, I'm just spreading word of your aid to the Good Fight. People gotta know to hope!" He smiled and spread his arms, and Cort seethed with the desire to blow the top of his head off. _Over a month, over a DAMN month on a stupid goose chase and ten, nine, eight..._ She closed her eyes an let out a long even breath.

"Tired. Father. Location. Now."

All right kid, all right! You did your part, now I'll do mine. No need to get all snarky, wrong side of the bed this morning? Your father talked about all kinds of crazy science mumbo-jumbo when he sat down with me, mentioned something called 'Project Purity'. Then he talked about meeting up with a Doctor Li in Rivet City, and split in a hurry after that. Know where it's at?"

"I ran with a trader for a while, so yes. He filled in a lot of blanks." Cort mentally thanked Moira and Crow for her not being entirely clueless on geography.

"Whoo, getting busy out there are ya? All right kid, gotta relax somehow in between fights against tyranny."

Biting the inside of her cheek hard, she looked around the room. "I need to sleep again before I set out, me and my friends. That store room still empty except for my stuff?"

Three Dog looked over in Charon's direction, who stared impassively back. "Yeah, I see you picked yourself up your very own Argyle. _Great_ material for a new radio show. And sure kid, but there's beds in the barracks you could take."

Clenching her hands again, Cort violently pushed everything out of her head and smiled, before turning to leave. "No, thanks. I've gotten into the habit of liking a door I can lock behind me."

Walking deeper into the building, Charon trudged behind his employer until she reached a medium-sized room with a lumpy, blanket-covered pile towards one end. Closing the door behind them, he watched Cort dig out more blankets from a footlocker next to it, shaking them out on the floor and mumbling to herself.

"Goddamned radio waves have fried out his brains. Frigging manipulative blowhard. Possible megalomaniacal complex." Stripping the armour off herself and then Dogmeat after slinging her pack in a corner, Cort dragged her fingers through the dog's coat over and over, then flopped onto one of the blankets and sighed. "Tomorrow I am finding their water supply and having a wash. A wonderful, long one." She lolled her head around to look at the ghoul as Dogmeat crawled into his accustomed sleeping place next to her. "Charon, it's bed time. You're making me feel even more tired standing there." He straightened his back and stared ahead. "What the heck is up with you today, anyway? Something's been bugging you since this morning, and I'm sorry if it's cause I-"

"I'm ready to accept my punishment. For damaging you." Charon gestured furtively towards his own neck when she did nothing more than raise an eyebrow and curl her lip at him.

Cort stared for a long moment, eyebrow still cocked, then dissolved into laughter. It wasn't the usual insane gales like she usually produced. To him, this sounded suspiciously like...no, definitely _was_..._giggling_. She was even starting to curl up and make little snorts. Charon glared down at her, which only made Cort go off even harder. This was _not_ the expected and appropriate response. What it was was completely mind-boggling. Even the damn _dog_ was thumping his tail and grinning at him.

Finally calming down, she rubbed her hand vigorously over her upper lip and spoke. "You're funny, Charon. And coming out of me that's saying something. Now come on and get to bed."

"I don't understand."

Cort sighed. "This is another contract thing I'm totally not getting, isn't it. Like why you can't take it." He nodded. "Well, for now, just ditch your armour and go to sleep. We can have a nice, long talk about it tomorrow and you can explain everything."

Charon didn't move immediately, flicking his chalky eyes around the room. "But...my punish-"

"_Charon._" he stopped and looked back to her. "Think about every conversation we've had, then ask yourself if I'm going to punish you for keeping me from asphyxiating to death. Ask yourself if you think I'm going to ever punish you, period. Do that after you've removed your armour and laid down on _that_ blanket, by which I mean the thing you will be _sleeping_ on tonight. There'll be a pop quiz in the morning." Cort curled into Dogmeat and shut her eyes. "Remember to lock the door, too."

* * *

**Charon** fell into his now customary habit of waiting for her snoring to start before moving. It didn't take long this time, barely a minute, and for once she was really kicking it up, probably a result of the dust they had inhaled today. After quietly locking the door he took off his armour and placed it next to hers, then laid down as he had been instructed, folding his arms and staring at the ceiling. _I do not want to fucking think. I never want to think again. She makes me think too much _already_, for fuck's sakes._ Swallowing down another surge of panic, Charon did as he had been directed and thought.

Half the conversations he had had with the girl had generally been about trading insults with each other. She had not, as he predicted their first evening, instructed him to remain silent, even after he had been as nasty as he dared to. This had been initially disappointing, if he couldn't talk, he couldn't be questioned without it being a direct order. After being aggravated enough to tell him to shut up, employers rarely showed interest in prying further into him, which was eminently preferable. Not being questioned meant not thinking about the answers or where they led to. He then grudgingly admitted to himself that having someone to talk to was...pleasant. Particularly one who usually dug in as hard as he did. That brought him to three more lines of thought and he swore.

One, he was actually liking it here. Any time he had allowed that to happen, it usually resulted in the rug being pulled out from under him in a very painful way. The thought that the positive feeling was happening _again_ was more horrifying than speculating on the unpleasantness that might follow. Having determined that and not seeing it as relevant to the things he had been directed to consider, he pushed it firmly to the back of his mind.

_Two_, the girl had done what could only be classified as _letting him win_ in certain verbal sparring matches. She had sulked, been snappish, stuck her tongue out and made ridiculous faces in his direction more than once, but had not become actually angry at him for doing it. Crazily, _she_ became quiet and withdrawn if he genuinely upset her instead of telling him to stop, and only became abrasive again after he had resumed needling her.

Finally, if he directed her to do something, or listen, she had deferred every time without question. Teaching her things she didn't know seemed to make her particularly happy. Generally in his experience, showing employers they didn't know something was a _bad idea_. Charon had an entire mental list of bad ideas and _very_ bad ideas he had accumulated over the decades. Questioning their actions was also high on that list, but he had been permitted to do that too, and again she either deferred or explained what she was doing instead of telling him to shut up. Employers were supposed to be considered as elevated, to be honorably followed into combat and obeyed, and if he didn't always fear them, there had been a deep-seated trepidation that was never absent. They had the might and were supposed to be always right, as long as they did not invalidate the terms of his contract.

He turned his head towards Cort, resting his ruined cheek against the floor as he looked at her, then rolled his eyes. _Here is my mighty and fearful employer. Fuck._ Cort's face was mashed into the blanket, drool puddling under her cheek. Dogmeat's muzzle was on top of her head, puddling _his_ drool into her insane hair. One arm was looped over the dog, and with where the other one was, he was certain it would be dead as a doornail by morning if she didn't roll off of it. Charon frowned. He was deviating from his assigned task again. Years of trying not to think apparently resulted in losing the ability to do it in a straight line. He turned his face back up to the ceiling and went over everything she had said to him in detail, picking over it for any phrases and behaviours he thought important enough to consider.

She kept her word, even when it involved great personal discomfort or risk. She could be manipulative when it suited her, but did not seem to be a manipulator. She only became verbally abusive when she felt affronted. She was quite possibly batshit and could go savagely berserk without warning, but to date only towards things trying to harm her. She was patient when needed, emotionally unstable, and she was...she was kind.

_'I'm not your previous employers. I'm your employer now. That means I'm responsible for you.'_

_'I'm not going to punish you. You didn't do anything wrong.'_

_'I'm sorry, you were right.'_

_'I'm not strong enough to keep you from falling, so out I go.'_

_'Shot again getting up here to you, as well as my friends being filled with holes.'_

_'I need to sleep again before I set out, me and my friends.'_

Charon was becoming increasingly frustrated the more he thought, unable to completely understand the picture he had made inside his mind. He was confused with the entire affair as a whole, and hated the uncertainty with a passion. Narrowing his thoughts down to a single line, he thought about the questions that had started it.

_'Ask yourself if I'm going to punish you for keeping me from asphyxiating to death. Ask yourself if you think I'm going to ever punish you, period.'_ Turning his head back to her for the second time, he stared at his employer. She had shifted onto her side and stopped drooling, Dogmeat now upside down with his feet dangling. He spoke as quietly as his raspy voice would allow.

"No, I do not think you will punish me. No, I do not think you ever will." Charon returned to staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, then closed his eyes and slept.


	30. The Things She Does to Herself

_**"And **__with your admission that you feel the same, I'll have reached the goal I'm dreaming of, believe me..."_

Waking up, Charon looked around blearily and cracked his neck.

"Yegh. Do you know how Godawful it sounds when you do that?" He turned his head to where Cort was sprawled on the floor, reading magazines. She was dressed in her Vault suit again with the sleeves and legs rolled up, and looked distinctly cleaner. Her other clothes were draped out to dry. Chin balanced on her left hand, music quietly emanated from the Pip-Boy below it. Charon raised one eyebrow and experimentally popped a shoulder joint, smiling to himself when she made a gagging motion.

_"I don't want to set the world on fire, I just want to start a flame in your heart..."_

Reaching over in between page flips, she turned the radio off. "He's due to go back to talking any time now. I've been listening all morning. Caught up on local news, Outcasts, stuff about trees, blah blah blah." She nodded to the corner where a pail stood. "I brought you back some water to clean up with. I didn't think you'd want to wander around the Brotherhood, even if these ones don't seem to be as snotty." Cort wasn't quite sure if this was because of her killing the Behemoth, Three Dog's Ghoul-friendly policy, or something else entirely, but didn't feel like finding out vicariously through Charon just how genuine their tolerance was.

Watching him get up and head for the water, she shuffled herself and her magazines around, reading about new cardiac procedures. _Pft. Not exactly new. I think research might be on a permanent hiatus._ Flipping the magazine closed, Cort sat up and started scrubbing at her Pip-Boy with a tooth brush she had found, flicking out grime and dirt. She had a delightfully warm suspicious feeling that it belonged to Three Dog. Possibly because she had nicked it out of his room while he was occupied at the board.

"Can't you take that thing off?" Charon rasped out from behind her as she rubbed the bristles under the glove on her left hand, twitching her shoulders happily and humming.

"Yeees, I could probably do that if I wanted to. It's not recommended though, and there's no way in hell I'm ever going to try. It adjusts enough to keep everything clean, I just haven't kept _it _clean lately. They're literally bomb-proof, but they'll go temporarily dingy if you don't look after them regularly." Finishing up with her violation of the DJ's grooming product, Cort started fiddling with various buttons and dials. Charon came around to the front of her wearing a spare shirt and cargos, the others thrashed enough he had merely balled them up to dispose of later. Sitting down, he watched her run different diagnostic tests as she muttered to herself.

"Are we going to eat?" Cort blinked and looked up at him.

"Huh? Yeah sure, Dogmeat and I already did, sleepyhead. Just dig around in the packs and take out what you want, there's still tons."

Both of them sat in silence for long moments, attending to their separate needs, Charon leaning against the wall when he was finished. Cort completed her last check and looked up at him.

"Soo we're going to talk about you contract, yes?"

"Yes." Charon drew his legs up, resting his arms on his knees.

"So go for it, then. Preferably from the beginning."

"My contract entitles you to my unflinching and loyal service, for whatever you as my employer may require, although combat is the primary function. Physical violence on your part invalidates the agreement. You are responsible for keeping the contract itself intact and on your person, until you should choose to transfer it to another or it is taken, whichever releases me from your employ." Cort sat for a few minutes, waiting for him to continue, blinking a few times when she realized he wasn't going to.

"That's it?"

"Yes, that's_ it_. You needed more?"

"Well, knowing why I can't just _give_ you the thing would be nice, I mean I want you around, but I don't want to make you do it."

Charon looked at her, exasperated. "Have you read my contract?" Cort nodded at him. "Then it should be plain enough. The wording is clear, even for an idiot."

"Hey!"

"I am loyal to the _holder_ of my contract. It doesn't matter that you _paid_ for it, only that you physically _have_ it."

"But that still doesn't explain why I can't gi-" Charon cut her off, rolling his eyes.

"Look Cort, I'm physically unable to take the thing for myself. It'd be pretty pointless to brainwash someone and not slam all the fucking doors on freeing themselves from it. Besides, people before you have tried. I'll just stand here like a moron until someone takes it back off me or I starve to death. I don't like it and I don't want to repeat it, so let it alone."

Jeez, fine. So what do you want me to do?"

"I don't fucking _care_, as long as you keep it safe for as long as you have it." Charon rubbed a hand over his face and looked at the ceiling. "You've got me now, just make the best of it." He stared upwards as Cort put her head down and thought for a moment before speaking again.

"You don't sound brainwashed."

"Like I said _before_, I was brainwashed, not lobotomized. If I walked around like a fucking automaton, you might as well stick a damn spotlight on me with a sign saying 'kill this one'. I'm big as it is, being a big dumb robot would just scream out for unwanted attention. So like I said, unless I'm told to shut up, I can say whatever the fuck I want. Helps me to blend in, particularly for anything involving cover or assassinations." Charon stared at his palms. "At least it used to."

Cort tactfully refrained from asking about his last statement. A brief moment of unpleasantness in Underworld had taught her that Carol's willingness to tell stories about being ghoulified was an extremely large exception to the rule. She decided to focus on something entirely different she wanted to know.

"Do you want me to have your contract?"

"It doesn't matter."

Cort narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes it does. To me."

Charon ran a hand over the back of his head and growled. "I would prefer...not to be transferred." He glared at her, waiting for her to push the issue further and relaxed when she didn't.

"Okay." She crossed her legs, chin in her hands and frowning. Dogmeat flopped against her. "I don't like the idea of carrying it around in my armour, plastic or no. For one thing I could lose it, for another, all manner of crap could get into it. I mean it looked like hell already when I got a hold of it. Same thing with any pockets. Anyone trying to steal my shit probably isn't going to be nice either, and God knows what you could be put up to doing in the wrong hands." _God only knows what you have been put up to._ Cort spent another twenty minutes looking at him, twisting her hand around and around in Dogmeat's fur. Charon stared back until she finally stood up, grinning wildly.

"Got it. That's it. Get dressed and repack, we're taking a quick run back to the Hospital. Everything should still be pretty clear right now." Cort dumped her pack out against the wall in a jumble and started pulling things for a short trip back out of it.

"_What?_"

* * *

**Cort** had spent four full days scouring every corner of Our Lady of Hope. She wasn't looking for medical supplies, having emptied the place out after going through the first time. Honestly, Charon wasn't sure _what_ she was searching for, although she picked various tools up occasionally. All she had told him was that he needed it, but wouldn't recognize it if he saw it, whatever the hell that meant. Half the things she said gave him a headache if he thought about it too hard. She spent her time sifting through every room, going under beds, into heating vents, and removing rubble piece by piece into new piles. The dog was doing it too, piling up small bits of metal and surgical detritus, which Cort would go through -_with _the dog, and Charon positively boggled at this- before they moved onto a new section.

"Oh you _are_ Momma's best boy, you found a piece! Now, see this one? It's made of this, so sniff for this one." Cort held up a scrap of silvery dark metal which the dog pressed his nose against and inhaled, before trotting off into the next part of the building. He started barking wildly a short time later, and they found him in one of the unsearched surgical bays, digging at a collapsed wall.

"Sweet! Charon, help me move this stuff out of the way." After shifting the larger sections, Cort and Dogmeat moved around on all fours in the remaining mess, her squinting and the dog snuffling. "Ha, beat you! Here it is." Ruffling the dog's fur and grinning, she sat up and showed Charon a small, flat, dirty metal oval.

"And _that_ is?"

"That, my friend, is job security."

* * *

**Having** laid out everything she needed on a table dragged over to a sunny window in the atrium, Cort sighed happily. After cleaning the pacemaker off, she had popped it open to dig out the innards, resealed it, then sunk it into a bowl of purified water.

"Okay, let's have supper while I test that thing out." She held up two radroaches brought back from a trip to the basement and dangled them.

"You still haven't explained what you're doing." Charon was uneasy. She was almost maniacally cheerful, and maniacal anything usually didn't bode well for her physical integrity. Or his nerves.

"You said, and I quote you directly, you 'don't fucking care'." Cort responded facetiously, then sobered. "You'll find out in an hour or so, and it'll be better if you don't have to dwell on the parts I need you to help with, and if I don't have to voice it out loud. You'll just think I'm insane and I might chicken out."

"Oh, that's much more reassuring, fucking _thanks _for that."

"Just eat your bug meat."

* * *

**"Okay**. This thing's still air tight, so we're golden. Now, let's see." She took out Charon's contract and folded the thin paper as small as it would go, then nudged it inside the container, sealing it shut. "That paper's so worn there's room to spare in there. It's creased but fine. Now hold that mirror up. No, so it shines some light back on me. Perfect." Cort pulled her armour and shirt off, then sat on the table.

"What the_ fuck_. Are you doing." Charon scowled at her over the mirror.

"Not a striptease, so don't get excited."

"As if."

"Hey!" Cort stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry at him while splashing vodka over her chest. "What I'm doing, Mr. Personality, is what you told me to do; keeping you safe." She jammed two Med-X into her right shoulder and picked up a scalpel, looking at it, then into the mirror. "Well this is going to suck." Making a rapid movement, Cort sliced herself open under the right collarbone.

"_What the fuck are you DOING?" _Breathless, Charon glared at her.

"Being way too obtuse for you, apparently. Hold that damn mirror still." She hissed loudly, wiggling a speculum inside the incision to pull the fat layer away from muscle, then slid the container holding his contract deeply inside. Taking out the tool, she held the cut skin together, blood welling over her fingers. "Whee! Okay, now get over here and stab that Stimpak in right where I put the Med-X. I can't let go of this." Charon complied, not taking his eyes off her face.

"You're absolutely batshit."

"And totally brilliant. Now I can't lose your contract, you'll know where it is at all times, and no one can steal it because nobody else knows where it is. Once I find some paper and a pen, I can even make a forgery to throw people off, in case anyone who knows how it works tries to go after it. I'm squishy enough up top that you won't even be able to tell once the swelling goes down. And this thing's made out of titanium, so it'll be fresh as daisies whenever it comes back out of me." Cort grinned crazily. "Now go check the rooms down the hall for some sheets or something, please. I bled a lot more than I thought I would." She plucked at the scarlet patches on her bra and grimaced.

"Well no fucking _shit_, Sherlock." Eyes still wide, Charon turned and went as directed.

Cort waited for him to disappear down the hall, then pulled a bottle of brightly glowing water out of her pocket and sighed. "Let's speed this up a bit, shall we?"


	31. Dovetailing

**Charon** made it down the hall and managed to pick up a few linens before he leaned against one of the walls and slumped. After all that, he _needed_ a goddamn _minute_. Of all the previous behaviours he had witnessed from employers, this took the fucking snack cakes. His smoothskin was nuts. Securing his contract was one thing, but this was the first time anyone had _mutilated_ themselves for his benefit. She had cut and ripped herself open for his safety. His employer was hurt again because of _him_. For someone who would never punish him, Cort was doing an excellent job of making him feel like she was.

This was, this was just... "Fucking _nuts_. _Just fucking...nuts_." This last came out as close to a breathy squeak as the ghoul's voice was capable of managing. Charon looked around the room wildly, feeling suspiciously close to what he thought was hyperventilating. He had no clue how to cope with this event, no previous experience to help put it into the correct context. If there even _was_ a correct context. The entire scope of everything he had gone through lately had finally reached a watershed moment. Sliding down to the floor, he put his head between his knees and laced his hands over the back of his neck.

* * *

**Cort **felt pleasantly buzzy, floating comfortably just above 400 Rads. She finished swabbing at the blood covering her chest, wiping away to clean skin with a new straight streak of scar tissue. _Well, join my happy snappy collection, fella. At least this one I decided to have myself, and got some good out of it._ Tracing over it with her fingertips, she looked around. Charon should have been back from the distracting little errand she had sent him on by now. Cocking her head to favour her good ear, Cort held her breath and listened. Plaster falling, Dogmeat breathing, and a quiet thumping, probably an old loose pipe. It wasn't the Mister Handy, they had returned to the Hospital and found it smashed, probably by the two Super Mutants that had managed to encroach back into the building.

"Charon?" She paused to listen again. Nothing. Cort slid down off the table. "_Charon_!" Still nothing. Whipping her head around, she clicked at Dogmeat. "Go watch the entrance. Run for us if you hear anything come in." She watched the dog station himself at the left of the room and grabbed her repeater, slinking down towards where Charon had headed after socking the butt into her shoulder._ Half naked bloody girl walking alone into the dark after someone goes missing. This was always a _great _idea in the old films. 'Oh shit, the mummy's after us, let's all walk a little faster'_. Cort suppressed a laugh, swinging into the first room and moving the rifle from one side to the other. Nothing. Pulling rapidly back out, she silently made her way to the next room and repeated the action, venturing farther and farther down the hallway. The thumping noise was getting louder, and didn't sound much like a pipe anymore. The thought that this was the first time she had been completely alone since her first week outside crashed into her mind like a window shattering. She started speaking, barely whispering the words, while moving towards the room the noise was emanating from.

"Not a mummy, not a mummy, _not_ the Mummy. Not the Wolfman either, or Dracula, or..._Charon_!" Cort stared into the room, slowly lowering the barrel of the repeater. The ghoul was sitting against the wall, head between his knees and hands over the back of his neck. The thumping was from the impact of his back hitting the wall over and over. Cort quickly glanced back down towards the atrium, then walked into the room. "Charon, stop it. Stop it!" Fretting, she watched him continue to rock back and forth. Whatever had just happened to him, it had apparently gone off like a bomb if he wasn't paying attention to her. Looking around the room, she didn't see anything obvious that could be considered traumatizing.

Letting the repeater slide down in her right hand until she was gripping the barrel, Cort crouched and shuffled closer until she was next to him, then sat down. The wall at her back vibrated with each impact, and brows knitting together, she quickly shoved her left arm behind him when he moved forward. "Ouch! You're _heavy_, you know that?" This statement or the impediment of her arm was apparently nonsensical enough to get through to him, and he stopped moving. Cort sat still for a few very long moments, pulling her rifle closer to her side.

"Sooo. Want to tell me why the wheels fell off your trolley?" Counting out the minutes, she slowly felt her fingers getting pins and needles and wiggled them, right before he quietly rasped from between his knees.

"You're injured, and it's my fucking fault."

_Oh jeeze, not this all over again. Don't tell me I broke him. No, of course not, all this means he's just peachy keen, you moron._ "Don't worry about my neck Charon, we went over this." Cort frowned when he didn't respond. "You're not gonna get punished." Still nothing.

Fisting up part of his shirt in her hand, she thought rapidly through her possible courses of action. Talking didn't seem to do much, so she selected something non-verbal to do first. _What, though. Maybe...well, worked for Dogmeat when I went loopy._ Pressing her head against Charon's side, Cort put down the repeater, slid as close as she could to him and hugged. Absently noting him flinch and squeezing harder for a moment in response to it, she considered what to do next while sitting quietly and listening to his heart thump in her bad ear. It was going way too fast for her liking. Finally, something dawned on her. _Oh you're kidding me. He can't really think..._

"Charon, d'you think you're responsible for my actions _today_?" A pause.

"Yes."

"Well, you're not. You didn't make me come up with this idea, or choose it. I decided to. _Me_. Not you. It doesn't matter why I did it. The physical action was my own." Cort stared down at the scar on her chest. "Was it wrong? Do you want me to cut it back out?"

"NO!" He pushed back against the wall so hard she hissed, prompting him to move forward again.

"Okay then. So was me cutting myself, which by the way is entirely healed, your fault?" Another, longer pause. She listened closely as the thumping in her ear gradually slowed down.

"...No."

"Okay again. _You're_ okay. Promise. Think you can uncurl now so we can go back to kicking the shit out of things?" He unlaced his hands and sat up. Cort let go and straightened up with him. "Perfect. Feel better?"

"Yeah. The radiation is helping too." Drawing his brows together, he looked at her. "Wait. Why the fuck are you irradiated as hell?"

"Oh. Um. I uh, got thirsty and accidentally drank one of the glowing bottles of water. Blood loss made me kinda spaced."

Charon laughed shakily. "You are a complete fucking ditz, you know that?"

"Hey! They all looked glowy in the sunshine."

* * *

**They** pulled back into GNR long enough for Cort to sort through and select the most useful or valuable items to take with them before remaking her cache in the storeroom.

"If we're going to Rivet City, there's at least four or five different merchants to sell things to. I want to get together as many caps as I can, God only knows when we'll need them for something." Picking up her Fat Man again, she hugged it, then stuck her tongue out at Charon when he rolled his eyes at her. "Don't look at me like that. This thing is _awesome_. I have named it George."

"That thing is a fusion nightmare waiting to happen in your hands." Cort rolled her eyes back and tucked the weapon back under the blanket, giving it a final pat, then flipped up her Pip-Boy map.

"Okie dokes, there's about three different ways we can get down to the carrier. There's going to Metro Central from here, through Dupont Circle, to Pennsylvania Avenue. Huh, that's where the White House is."

"Was."

"Oh. Nuts. Well, anyway, from there we can come out at Seward Square, which connects to Anacostia Crossing. There's also a more direct route from the Museum Station. We could stop in and see the Rangers on the way there or back, really, and get paid for that fucking nightmare we went through. Lastly, we could follow the river down from Farragut West."

"Well, which route do you want?" Charon looked up from rearranging his pack. "Inside or outside?"

It took Cort a split-second to decide. "Oh outside. Definitely outside. With air. And sky. No crumbling walls." Brightening, she dug to the bottom of her pack and pulled out a thin package. "We can even pop over to Megaton, and I can drop off Carol's letters. And take the rest of this stuff back to the house! Haha, saddle up George!"

Charon groaned, shook his head, and started repacking everything.

* * *

**All** three of them laden down like mules, they headed east and back out of downtown DC. The problems with the Talon Company were greater on the way out of GNR this time, since it seemed most of them were travelling to the city through the Farragut West Metro. Cort had gotten impatient enough towards the end to literally drive the last squad outside by pelting down the tunnel with the Fat Man, screaming about ramming a Mini Nuke up each of them in a colourful and inventive stream of profanities. Charon ran beside her and shot each one of them in the back, bringing them down for Dogmeat to bite through the back of their necks.

"You are so fucking lucky they didn't notice that thing wasn't loaded. _We're_ probably lucky it wasn't fucking loaded."

"It's called George."

"I am _not_ humouring you with that. The sad face you're putting on will not make me do it either, jackass."

Cort reslung the heavy weapon and cautiously looked outside of the Metro Station stairwell. There were definitely more bodies on the ground, both from raiders and more Talon Company. "Looks like those assholes made this part of the return easy for us, at least." She looked around to where Charon was stripping the three mercs they had just killed. "Do you think we can manage a bit more material?"

"Fuck's sakes, you're going to snap in half if you load anything else on. I can manage a little more of this shit, armour plates, maybe a couple rifles. Want to stop and cache it?"

"No, I want to get moving, we'll just search the rest of them for caps. There's a couple stops along the way I need to make as it is."

"What fantastic news. That always turns out so well for us."

"Pessimist." Cort waited for him to finish putting things away, searched through the remaining bodies for money, then headed out towards Megaton.

* * *

**The** Super Duper Mart turned out to be laughably easy with her companions and the amount of experience she had accumulated, and Cort pulled out the small amount of food and medicines that Moira had wanted from the building. Her next stop was Springvale Elementary School. She eschewed total stealth in this task for something deeply more satisfying. Quietly slipping in the door, they stood in the lobby while Cort threw her head back and called out.

"Starla. Oh Staaaarla." After a few moments of steady stomping, a mohawked woman appeared at the top of the stairs, looking down at them.

"What? Who the fuck are you?"

"Hey Starla?"

"What?"

"Eat my dick." Cort whipped up the repeater and fired, splattering the raider's brains over the wall and ceiling, then nodded to her companions. "Rip them up. Every fucking last one of them." Both her and Charon rapidly moved through the building putting down anything that moved, sometimes after Dogmeat had slashed out tendons and sent the raiders crashing to the floor. Cort was positively radiant by the time they finally reemerged from the building, splattered in a mix of her own blood and others. After slatting the gore off her visor with the edge of a hand, she knelt down to rub Dogmeat's ears and turned her face to Charon.

"Let's go home. I need a nap. And a bath."

"The state you're in, you'll need a fucking fire hose."

Cort squinted up at him in the morning sunshine and smiled.

* * *

_Cookie to whoever finds the Stephen King reference! Last chapter for the week, my training course starts tomorrow and I've got a looot of reading to do. Left you on a happy note while you wait. :) Don't worry, things will go to hell in a handbasket again soon._


	32. Interrupted Observations

_Finished my course and passed it! I am soooo tired. On with the show we go!_

* * *

**Stockholm** was humming along quietly with his new radio. After memorizing all the songs he had started making up his own creative variations on the lyrics. Within three days he had been instructed by Simms to keep it to a dull roar after the residents had regularly started pelting the guard tower with anything they could find. That had been prompted partly by his inclination to feature members of the town in the colourfully rewritten songs, and the fact that Stockholm was as tone deaf as a dead Brahmin.

He was considering the best way to lyricise the instrumental features when the Vault kid came trudging up the hill. Her appearance this time created an almost unheard of phenomenon; Stockholm went briefly speechless. Cort was striding up the hill like a obscenely armed tortoise, gore-covered and grinning. Behind her was a massive ghoul equally laden, and definitely not grinning. The only reason he had even been positive it was the girl was because of the dog and his funny clothes. She tilted her head back as she walked under him, waving.

"Hi Stockholm!"

"Hi kid!" He watched the trio pass by and go through the inner gate, shrugged, then turned to the Wasteland and went back to his songs. "Huh. Kid gets weirder every time she comes back. _'Each morning Confessor Cromwell speaks nutty divine, he tells the mutant population that radiation is fine...'_ "

* * *

**"Wadsworth**, I'm home!" Cort shoved the door open with a shoulder after unlocking it, then slumped her pack onto the floor.

Good day Madam! I say, you do appear to be quite a mess. You should seek medical attention." The robot putted down the stairs, examining her closely with an eyestalk.

"I've been a busy little bee, and I will, don't worry. Wadsworth, this is Charon. He lives here now too. Can I have three bottles of water, please?"

Rotating around, Wadsworth looked momentarily at the ghoul before turning back to Cort. "Good day, Sir. Of course, Madam." Cort grabbed the bottles as they dispensed and handed one to Charon before heading into the kitchen to fill Dogmeat's water bowl. Turning, Cort started to strip her armour off.

"I'm sorry I was gone for so long again. Do you ever need me to bring you anything?"

"I am perfectly self-sufficient, Madam, and thank you for your thoughtful consideration. What will be your requirements for today?"

"Cleaning armour and clothes, and putting the stuff in the packs away, like last time, if you please." Letting the last pieces slip to the floor, Cort removed Dogmeat's from him as he drank, then pulled a sheet and lengths of wire out of one of the lockers. Walking next to the kitchen area, she made a makeshift drape to cut it off from the larger room. "There. Now we can at least clean up here if we don't want to tromp to the bathrooms."

She had decided to set up a private area inside the house on the way back to the town. Megaton's washrooms were not large on privacy outside of the stalls, and while Cort had grown up with communal showers as a norm, she did not think Charon would prefer washing where nearly one hundred percent of the populace were smoothskins(not that she thought any of them would be stupid enough to confront the massive ghoul about anything). Particularly since not all of them were tolerant, if her encounters with Gob were accurate.

Charon rasped out from beside the door, sipping his water. "What do you want me to do?"

"Unno, whatever you want? Take your armour and pack off and set them where I put mine, Wadsworth will clean them. They definitely need it." Cort wrinkled her nose. "So do I, so dibs on the sink first. You too, my best boy." Cort smiled as Dogmeat whuffed, then slipped behind the blanket. "After that, clean up, crash, eat, whichever. It's safe here."

After washing and healing up, Cort dressed in her Vault suit again, and directed Charon to take his turn at the sink. Taking Dogmeat outside with a brush she had found conveniently next to where the toothbrush for her Pip-Boy had been, she sat at the little table behind her house and got to work on removing the dirt and gore buried in his fur.

"Whatcha doing?" Cort looked up from a particularly nasty mat of dead hair and into the face of a little brown-haired girl in a white and pink jacket.

Turning back to Dogmeat, she started working her fingers under the clot. "I'm getting all the yucky stuff out of his fur."

"How'd he get so dirty?"

"Oh. Uh, working with me, doing things." She picked out a dried chunk of something that looked suspiciously like lung tissue.

"Can I help?" Cort looked down at her hands, which were currently covered in red flakes. _Oh Hell no. Nonono. _

"You can help me brush him out again after I get all the ..._dirt_ out. I don't think whoever you belong to would like you to come home with messy hands like I'm getting."

"Okay! Can I go get Harden to help? I'm Maggie." The kid was practically bouncing up and down, clapping her hands. Cort softened.

"Sure."

Charon came out some time later(leaving the robot mumbling about now having three times the mess), dressed in another spare shirt and cargos. One nice thing about the Talon Company was the seemingly unlimited supply of _almost_ new clothing. Cort slid out of the chair to the decking and waved him over to it, where he sat and silently watched the surrounding area. He was already aware of at least three people observing from what they thought were discreet locations. The Sheriff passed by to and from the gate and also stared, but with an open, neutral _'I'm here, I noticed you, don't start fucking around' _look that Charon understood and appreciated. He supposed the man would eventually come over, but seemed to be purposefully leaving Cort alone for the time being. After talking more on the way to Megaton, he had gathered that Simms was her very first grudge on the outside. _Fucking sucks to be you, fella. _Charon snorted and turned his attention back to Cort and the dog.

"How long are we staying here?" Cort tilted her head up to him, scratching her nose on the back of one arm.

"Tonight and tomorrow, leave the next morning. I don't know about you, but I need a rest. I was ready to go right back out again, but we're been running around for ages, and I haven't had any real down time since I got hurt at the MoT first time around." She brushed the last of the grime out of Dogmeat, then swept the pile of loose fur and dessicated gore off the back of the walkway, knocking the brush out and placing it on the table. "I'll be right back, I need to wash all this crap off my hands." Charon watched her head back into the house, then resumed scanning the area. He was up to five people now watching him, one of the original three having been replaced by someone new. Hearing feet pounding towards his location, he stiffened and whipped his head to the left.

"See Harden I told you she was back with the- oh, hi! Where did the lady go?" Charon looked down and blinked. Two children, a boy and a girl, were looking at him questioningly. He blinked again, processing. These were the first kids he had seen in well over half a century, and the last encounter had not involved questioning looks. What it _had_ involved was wide-eyed staring and a certain amount of screaming. Shaking himself mentally and putting that new experience aside for the moment, he replied.

"Inside. Washing her hands."

"Can we start brushing the dog?" Now they were looking hopefully at him, asking for what he thought was permission to groom the mutt. Charon frowned and thought for a minute before coming to a conclusion.

"Not without her." Deciding that the children weren't a threat(for the moment, anyway) he went back to scanning the town. There were still five watching, but the other four had also rotated out to new people, all dressed in various types of white clothing. While not necessarily unsettling, it was definitely approaching odd. Charon was contemplating what action to take when Cort came out of the house, swinging two Nuka Colas. Flopping next to the chair, she handed one to the ghoul.

"Hey, Maggie! Is this your friend Harden?" She looked over to the boy.

"Yup!"

Cort nodded in his direction. "Hi Harden."

"Hi, Miss Cort."

"_Miss_ Cort? I bet I know who your dad is then. Simms?"

"Yes, Miss Cort."

"Lovely manners. Lost art out here, _let _me tell you. Okay, you two can brush out Dogmeat, just be gentle." Cort snaked an arm up to grab the brush, then handed it to Maggie. "And make sure you share." Cort grinned and sat back. Observing the kids would be fascinating. There hadn't been any opportunity to study them outside of when her own age group in the Vault had been younger and she certainly hadn't been in an arbitrary position then to have unbiased opinions and-

"Cort." Her name pulling her out of her musings, she looked up to Charon. He was scowling, chalky eyes flicking in multiple directions.

"Mhm? What. What is it." She started looking around for anything threatening. It would have to be something from the inside; there was no way Talon Company would have made it past the gates.

"Who the hell are the jackoffs in the white clothes staring at me." He pointed to what was now six different locations, clustering closer to them every few minutes.

"Oh, _balls_. Those are the bomb-worshippers."

"The _what_?"

"They worship the bomb in the middle of town as a god, and consider nuclear explosions as a happy good thing, instead of you know, total suck like regular people. Right now, they're probably working up the nerve to come worship _you_."

"..._WHAT_? You're fucking kidding me."

Cort flicked her hands absently towards where the kids were clustered around Dogmeat, who was positively wiggling at the attention. "Language, please. Seriously, they probably see you as like, I don't know. Blessed or an angel or something equally idiotic." She sighed. "We've got two choices. You can go back inside and avoid the buggers, or sit out here and wait for them to finally come over and start bothering us." Frowning as another figure joined one of the groups, Cort stood up and dusted her rear off. "You know what, no. Three choices. I'll be right back."

Charon watched her storm off towards the group to the right, hair bouncing up crazily, as the boy piped up from where he was taking his turn brushing the dog. "So are you like, Miss Cort's Argyle?"

Charon gripped his forehead, not having a nose to pinch any longer, while holding back a stream of expletives. "Yes. Yes I am."

* * *

**"You** loonies can knock it off right now. You're weirding out my friend and annoying me." Cort had made a bee-line for the cluster of people containing Confessor Cromwell.

"My child, we are but coming to bask in the presence of one who has been blessed by the Gift of Atom!"

Putting her hands on her hips, she looked Cromwell up and down as he stared at her beatifically. _Oh no. nonono, we're nipping this fruitcakery in the bud right here. Something must keep them away from Gob_. "Right. So what happens when you try to go and bask in Moriarty's?"

"Colin Moriarty has been...unwilling to allow us access to the Blessed of Atom. A travesty of great proport-"

Cort cut him off. "Right. And whatever happens to you when you try to go bask at the bartender is going to end up ten times worse if you try to bask with _him_. He will either shoot you, or I will do something much, _much_ more slow and inventive." Cort grinned wickedly and capped off the physical threat with something psychological. "If you want to even have him set _foot_ back in this town again, you'll turn around and trot back to whatever the hell it was you were doing and not even so much as look at him, otherwise you _will _drive this 'Blessed of Atom' right out of Megaton. He won't come back. _Your_ fault."

Cromwell stared at Cort, his face going gradually paler, from which threat she wasn't sure. "We will not endanger the chance to increase the holiness of our town. We shall be a shining example to the Wasteland, my brothers and sisters! A beacon of peace to the Blessed of Atom everywhere!" Turning for one last look at her, he led his party back to the crater bowl after motioning away those on the other side. Cort lolled her head back and groaned to herself.

"Oh thank God and green apples that _worked_. I really would have hated to go to Simms for help." Cort walked back to the little group at the table, where Charon had his face buried in one hand. _Hmm, maybe too much kid exposure. I'll have to observe them later, then._ _Thank you so much, resident cultists_. "All right you two, time to scat. Any more brushing and he won't have fur left! Besides, Miss Cort has errands to run."

* * *

**The** trio had headed back indoors, Cort leaning beside the door as Charon and Dogmeat came in.

"Okay, they probably shouldn't bother you after that. I think. At least they're not trying to kill you?" Cort crossed her arms and shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh and that's _much_ fucking better. If they were doing that I could just blow them the fuck away and have done with it."

"The glass is always half empty with you isn't it."

"The glass went dry and smashed a while ago." Cort frowned at his back. _Pessimist_.

"Well pick up the pieces, put them in _my_ glass and come on. There's errands to run and I'll need help to carry the stuff to sell. Besides, after we tromp through the middle of town carrying _that_ many weapons, everyone should leave _all_ of us alone."

Cort and Charon blew into Moira's carrying no less than twenty rifles and assorted pistols between them, along with various bits of junk and tech. "Hi Moira!"

"Oh hey honey, long time no see! Wow, aren't you just armed to the teeth! I'd hug ya but I'd probably get stabbed by something, haha! And you've got a new friend!" Moira beamed at Charon as he stared impassively back at her. "Such a nice big fella too!"

"I got that stuff done in the Super Duper Mart for you." Cort dug out the food and supplies she had scavenged from the decrepit store.

"Oh super! Tell me all about it, I can't wait to hear what you found!"

Charon listened as the crazy woman went through a more detailed explanation of the insane tasks for Cort to do after she had briefed her on the supermarket encounter, Moira giving Cort a food sanitizer to take with her as payment for the completed job. Along with this came a dirty stick and a small sensor required for something involving Mirelurks and molerats. _If _this _is where she was getting her marching orders from it's a wonder she didn't end up fucking flayed out on a rock somewhere. _He was more than ready to crawl out what was left of his skin by the time Cort finished up and swung a much smaller sack of caps over her shoulder.

"So the extra bed, laboratory equipment, infirmary and workbench will be delivered later today?"

"Youbetcha! I'll run them down for you around suppertime!"

"Peachy! I'll stop in and visit before I leave again, there's some ...stuff I need to talk to you about later." She waved to Moira and went back out the door, turning to Charon. "Okay, I just need to go visit Gob and give him Carol's letters."

"Joy."

Cort slapped him gently on the back. "Oh, buck up. Come on, I'll buy you a drink."


	33. Interlude in Megaton

**Gob** was polishing a glass for the third time in a row, staring at the door. It had been an unusually rotten day. Jericho hadn't moved from the end of the bar since opening, and was particularly nasty. He wasn't sure who had pissed in the ex-raider's Sugar Bombs, but Gob had become a surrogate for them. He knew better than to hit or throw anything at the ghoul, Moriarty would eject anyone abusing his bar or the...employees. He did not, however, stop anyone from aiming insults and foul language at the poor bartender, and Jericho was particularly skilled with both. Resigning himself to the verbal punishment after the first hour of it, Gob waited for anyone new to come in to distract himself with. Unfortunately, everyone new usually wasn't very pleasant and he was only trading direct verbal abuse for veiled disgust. He had started in on the glass for the fourth time when the door swung open.

Whoever was coming in was huge. Backlit by the bright light from outside, a bit taller and the figure standing in the doorway would have had to duck to enter the saloon. Gob blinked when the person split into two, one still large and the other, smaller portion a few inches below the level of the bigger one's shoulders. The bartender smiled when a third, four-legged figure ducked in to match pace with the smaller one, who had resolved into someone wearing a Pip-Boy. _Cort. Oh thank Christ._

"Hey Gob!" Smiling, she swung up on the corner stool, Dogmeat taking his accustomed place beneath it. Coming over to the bar, Gob jerked to a halt when he saw the other person sitting down next to her.

"Charon?" Gob stared at the other ghoul who was currently glaring down at the smoothskin looking at him disgustedly from his right. They rapidly moved farther down the bar after a brief moment, clearly not liking whatever they saw in the big man's face. Swiveling his head back around, Charon turned to Gob.

"What."

"N-Nothing. Just surprised to see you here."

"Aren't we all. Girl hired me."

Cort eyed the two staring at each other for a moment, then coughed politely. Gob started and turned back to her. "So yeah, obviously I made it to Underworld. Want to see what I brought you?"

Brightening and looking hopeful, he leaned forward on the scarred bar. "Brought me?" Cort smiled and dug around inside her Vault suit, pulling out the messages from Carol and handing them to Gob.

"Letter one, letter two! I saw Carol while I was there and she sent these back with me." Grinning wider, she bounced happily in place as he took them and practically hugged the letters to his chest. "We'll be going back to DC day after tomorrow, so if you want to write something to send back, I can take it, or just tell me the message. I can pop over to Underworld again easy."

"Oh, _excellent_!" Gob had the chance to smile back for a fraction of a second before Moriarty yelled out from the back room. Flinching and quickly shoving the letters deep into a pocket, he spun around.

"Gob! Again with running your mouth off! I don't pay you to yatter at the top of your lun-Oh. It's _you_. I should have known." Cort raised both eyebrows and stared back at Moriarty, who was looking at her foully, glancing at Charon and back. "Well, had to have one of your own, did you? People are going to think you've got some kind of a fetish, lass."

Rolling her eyes and making a rude gesture in his direction, Cort snapped back at him. "Considering the deplorable state of smoothskin men out here, of which you are no exception by the way, limp dick, no fucking wonder. Can I get back to ordering my drinks now, or do I take all these down to that Brass Lantern place?" Smiling sweetly, she shook her bag of caps, making them jingle loudly, while Charon snorted back something sounding suspiciously close to a laugh. Moriarty narrowed his eyes. The Stahls and their restaurant were an annoying thorn he was firmly committed to plucking out any way he could, including doing it cap by cap. He snarked at Cort before disappearing back to his terminal, greed winning out over anger.

"Fine lass, and plant that high and mighty arse in my bar all day if it suits you. Make sure to keep _both_ of your damn mutts from pissing on my bar."

Pointedly ignoring that and the multiple people staring at her, including Jericho, Cort turned back to Gob. "Two scotch?" She watched the ghoul busy himself getting the drinks together.

"I'm glad you're back, Cort. I've been listening to stories about you on GNR when I'm allowed. Thanks a bunch for fixing that by the way, it's pretty much the only thing that makes the days decent. The thing with Reilly's Rangers was _really_ awesome."

She sighed internally as he slowly started to smile again, and weakly returned his expression as he placed a glass in front of her. _Goddamnit. Now I can't be as pissed as I want to be at that_. "Oh, I'm sure I'll end up on there again." Taking a mouthful of liquor, Cort froze. After sniffing the rest of the scotch, she shut her eyes and dribbled the contents of her mouth back into the tumbler and pulled a face, then quickly slapped her hand over the top of Charon's glass before he could lift it. He raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "Gob, do you know what's _in _that? Don't answer that, there's no way you'd serve it to me if you did. Give me two Nukas instead."

"Aww, little Vault bitch can't hold her booze?" Jericho slurred up at her from the other end of the bar. Cort smiled the same sweet smile she had just given to Moriarty.

"Nope. You want both? I'm buying." Motioning to Gob, the bartender grabbed both glasses after giving her a questioning look and took them over to the ex-raider. Jericho snatched both and downed them, being careful not to touch the ghoul, then leered at Cort.

"Well fuck yeah! How about you slide on down here then, sunshine?"

"How about you quit while you're ahead, _cupcake_." Cort shook out the amount of caps needed and shoved them over the bar to Gob, who furtively looked around and then shoved a handful back to her. She quietly piled them back into her bag after looking at him to make sure, then levered the cap off of her soda. The bartender took one last nervous look over his shoulder and leaned back onto the bar in front of her.

"So Cort." She looked at him questioningly. "Story-time?" Smiling again(and damned if it didn't feel good to her to be doing it so much of it lately), Cort leaned in towards him.

"Yes Gob. Story-time."

* * *

**Cort** and Charon finally left before closing, Cort having happily talked about her recent travels to entertain Gob along to pass the time, and Charon amusing himself by staring down various people stupid enough to make eye contact. The last one had been Jericho, who had been solidly plastered for nearly half a day.

"Hey rotbag. Still have your dick on?" Charon had spun in place walking to the door as Jericho shot the slur at him. Not slowing down as he faced the drunkard, he jerked his crotch with one hand.

"Why, you _hungry_ for it, shitsack?" Any response from Jericho had been drowned out by Cort laughing her way outside, Dogmeat yelping along with her.

After getting back to the house, she happily murmured over the pile of new furniture and equipment piled neatly in the center of the room, Wadsworth putting next to them.

"Deliveries came for you while you were out, Madam. Will you be requiring assistance with them?"

"No thank you Wadsworth. You can um, retire for the evening if you'd like."

"Very good, Madam." Cort watched the robot move to the corner of the room and shut itself down, pondering where to set up her new things.

"Well, first things first. Help me move the couch in the other room downstairs, huh Charon? Then we can move your bed in there." Spending the next hour fussing around, Cort felt very happy and domestic. _Apocalyptic hellhole aside, it's nice having my own house. Not just a living unit, but a whole entire house._ She paused to look at Dogmeat, who was asking Charon to scratch his ears. The ghoul hadn't figured out what that particular behaviour meant yet and was staring at the dog, one eyebrow cocked. _And nice to have a new family, even if it is a smart dog and a smart-mouthed cranky mercenary. _Cort smiled, the expression fading after a moment. _ Oh, Dad. I miss you so much._ Eyes stinging, she turned to lock the door and then jogged up the stairs, trying unsuccessfully to keep her voice from cracking. "Tired, night." Charon looked up at her rapidly receding back and frowned.

"Cort?"

"_Goodnight_." Dogmeat left off waiting for the ghoul to figure out what to do for the time being and trotted upstairs after her, Cort pushing the door shut behind him after he was through. Charon stood motionless staring at her door until he heard her uneven breathing fall into the regularity of sleep, then went quietly to his own, still frowning.

* * *

**Having** been awake for over a full day, all three of them slept until close to noon. For once, Charon was the first up and around, and he busied himself at the workbench while waiting for Cort to wake up and issue his orders for the day. _Hopefully it'll involve something other than sitting around on our fucking asses looking at losers all day. Something violent._ Charon smiled to himself and stripped apart another combat shotgun to improve his own, making his face carefully neutral again out of habit when he heard Cort's bare feet padding down the dented stairs. Turning around on the bench to look at her, he rolled his eyes. Half her hair stood straight up, the other half plastered in various directions, and her eyes were puffy with dark circles under them. At some point she had tied the top of her Vault suit around her waist, and was tugging blearily at the tank top underneath it, blinking slowly when she noticed him.

"G'morning."

"The hell happened to you last night. You look like you went through a fucking mutant ambush in your sleep." Giving the ghoul an evil look, she pushed the heels of her palms into her eyes and rubbed at them before staggering over to slump next to him on the bench.

"Thanks so much for the compliment. I had nightmares all night, if you must know." Cort had spent the entire evening and morning waking up every few hours, chased out of sleep by horrible images involving James and the terrible things that could have happened to him. Considering the things she had gone through, her mind had a lot to work with. She was sourly contemplating the notion that resting for a few days was giving her entirely too much time to think. _I sleep better now when things are trying to murder me every day. Just perfect_.

"What the fuck kind of thing could freak _you_ out? You're a total nightmare as it is already." Charon absently patted her shoulder while delivering the insult, then returned to sorting through the various parts strewn on the work surface in front of him. Cort smiled, and feeling slightly better, leaned in towards him to peer at the disassembled weapons.

"Oh, _thanks_. It doesn't matter what it was, I'm awake now. What are you doing?"

"Improving the power and accuracy of my shotgun."

Cort wiggled in place and smirked at him. "_Told_ you you were the one with accuracy problems."

"As fucking _if_. Now watch me and learn how to do this, then go eat something. You keep fucking forgetting."

"Okay."

Watching attentively until he finished up, Cort ate breakfast and fed Dogmeat, then decided to spend the afternoon with Gob. It would probably be a long while until she was back to see him again, and she wanted to make the most of her time available until she was in a solid position to get him loose from Moriarty. Swinging Butch's old jacket on and raking her hair into a semblance of order, she turned back to Charon as she pulled on her boots. "Do you want to come with? I'm going to go hang out at the bar."

"Fuck _no_. I had enough annoying and crazy yesterday. For the _year_. I'm staying in here."

"Fine, fine. You know where to find me." She signalled Dogmeat to follow and headed out into the new afternoon, swinging across the bowl towards Moriarty's, while Charon resigned himself to finding something non-violent to do. She had made it halfway to her destination when a familiar voice detained her.

"Miss Cort?"

Jerking to a halt and spinning around, she looked up at the sheriff, who tipped his hat when her eyes focused on him. "Simms."

"I just wanted to check in, and ask about your new companion." Simms hadn't confirmed it, but he had been around long enough to know a trained mercenary when he saw one, if only from the subtle behaviours the man had. Anyone _that_ large could kick up dickens as a rule, and create problems he didn't need.

Cort crossed her arms and looked up at him. "I'm fine, he's fine, although I had to head off the cultists yesterday."

"Cromwell tends to get worked up over ghouls when they come in, although in a more docile way than most of the other residents, which you should be aware of. He's going to be staying with you for a while?"

"Oh I'm aware. I see fine, _exceedingly_ fine, how Gob gets treated. And yes, he is staying. Permanently. If I ever don't come back, the house is his, consider it part of my will."

Simms sighed and resisted the urge to run a hand over his face. The situation with the bartender was bothersome, but he couldn't afford to upset the tenuous political situation with Moriarty over a ghoul. "Miss Cort, while I appreciate your concern, I don't think you've been out long enough to grasp the nuances of-"

"Hi Miss Cort! Hey, Dad." Both their heads turned to look at the boy running up to them, Simms gaping slightly. Cort grinned and waved.

"Hi Harden! Where's Maggie?"

"Doing girl things, which I don't want to do. Can I please play with Dogmeat?"

"Sure! Just be gentle, and let him go back to my house when he gets tired, Charon's home." Cort signalled to the dog, who grinned and trotted after Harden.

"Thank you Miss Cort!"

Turning back to the sheriff, she recrossed her arms. "Was there anything else, because I was going visiting before I go out to do more things I'm sure you'll hear about on GNR later."

"No, that was it." Watching her stride up to the saloon, Simms sighed. "Giant pain in the ass, who brings new migraines with her. It's a wonderful day in town."


	34. Stop the Apocalypse, I Want to Get Off

_Thanks much for the congrats, new reviews and favourites! Keeps me going, folks. :) FYI, occasionally I put up two chapters in one day, sometimes on either side of FFs update rollover, so click back if you think you're missing something, you might've.  
_

* * *

**She** had passed Moriarty brooding over the town again on her way inside, trading a simpering smile for his nasty glare. Cort peeled in through the door to the dim saloon and waved politely to Nova who was downstairs for a change, the saloon being mostly deserted again in the afternoon heat. The woman waved back distractedly and returned to slumping against the wall with a blank look on her face. Slinging up on her favoured stool, she chirped at the bartender.

"Hi Gob!"

"Hey Cort, you're back!" Watching the ghoul hurry over from the sink, Cort rested her chin in her hands and grinned.

"Course I am. Have to make hay while the sun shines and all that, visit while I can." She thumped her heels together and smiled wider. "Nuka?"

Grabbing one from under the bar, he levered the cap off and handed it over, shaking his head. "You're lucky these things aren't addictive, the way you peel through them."

"Hey! I like the fizz. There's nothing wrong with that." Holding her nose over the end of the bottle, Cort giggled as the effervescent liquid tickled her nose. Gob was sure his heart had skipped over a beat or two listening to her do it. Sneezing from the bubbles, she finally glanced back up to him. "Did you enjoy your letters?" Watching his face take on a pained expression before going blank, she frowned. "What happened?"

"...Nothing." Gob looked down, refusing to make eye contact with her. Both of them jumped when Nova spoke up from the corner and successfully lit Cort's fuse with what she said.

"Nothing my ass, honey. Moriarty took them away from him this morning for being a distraction while working. Bull_shit_, I'm the only one that works in their bedroom."

The bartender was hunching in on himself, still not looking up. "I'm not allowed to have them anymore, or new ones. Or writing my own." This quiet admission managed to ignite Cort's smouldering temper into a full-blown rage.

"_WHAT_?" Bellowing, she stood up on the rungs of her stool and leaned over the bar. She mentally cursed at herself when Gob cowered back from her, then slammed a hand down and vaulted over the bar. Grabbing him gently by the shoulders and tilting her head back, she looked up at him. "I'll go fix it. Promise." Spinning, she jumped back over the bar and barreled out the front door, skidding to a halt in front of the Irishman. "You give him back his fucking letters _right_ now."

"And pardon me, I'll do no such thing, you meddling little brat. I do what I want to what I own under my own roof." Leaning back against the railing, he gave her a shit-eating grin that she ached to slap from his face, stopping only when she bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to make it bleed.

Give them back, or I'll make you give them back."

"Oh and we're trying to make cute little threats now, are we. Bless the child. You don't have what it takes, girlie. Even if you did, I'm a pillar of this community. They'd eat you alive if you so much as threw a punch."

Cort stared at him without blinking as she thought rapidly. Having been separated from her only remaining parent, Carol had filled a void for Cort, however briefly, and the thought of Gob being denied contact with his adoptive mother had thrown her into absolute fit of righteous indignation. _Motherfucking manipulative bastard. Motherfucking piss-soaked manipulative bast-_ "Oh. _Oh_." Still not breaking eye contact Cort started laughing, scaling up and down crazily; Moriarty's grin faded as he took on a more guarded look.

"And what might be so funny lassie? Share the joke?"

Slapping a knee, Cort reduced herself to giggling in spurts. "I'm just thinking how funny it would be to find out what the community will think of their pillar when they find out he's been _pissing_ in the fucking _still_. Jericho in particular would probably _love_ to know that little tidbit." She smiled viciously when he started. "Oh yeah, I know. Firsthand experience. And don't tell me I can't prove it. You know who my father is, tell me I don't know how to isolate that out of the booze you're serving up with the correct equipment I just happen to now have. Don't try to tell me they won't believe the poor little Vault girl who disarmed the fucking _bomb_ over you either. Now give me back Gob's letters, or so help me I will end you, one way or the other."

Moriarty pushed off the railing, looking for all the world like he was about to strike her, and she felt dangerously elated, close to hearing the chimes in the back of her head for the first time in weeks. _Oh please you sonofabitch. Do it. Right now. I need to kill someone anyway, It's been _hours_ and it would feel so nice to choke it out of you by inches._

"You're playing a dangerous game. You're good, but you're not that good. Nobody's as good as Colin."

"I might not be, but ask yourself if I am _that_ fucking crazy." Cort stared him down, still smiling and mentally begging him to take a swing until Moriarty flipped a hand in and out of a pocket, throwing Gob's letters to her left before storming back into the bar. She snapped them neatly out of the air without looking and followed behind him. "Thanks!"

He turned back and pointed at her before vanishing into the back room. "You're done for, lass. Done."

Swinging back into her seat, Cort mumbled to herself while straightening out the crumpled papers, ignoring the open-mouthed stares coming from Gob and Nova. "I'll be done with you when I kill you." She placed the sheets gently on the bar in front of Gob, who had creeped back over after Moriarty had disappeared. "There. I fixed it."

"What did you just do kid?" The ghoul was staring at her like he had never seen her before, and she felt her temper dissipate entirely into a confused depression.

"What I promised. He won't take them again, don't worry." She watched him delicately pick up the papers and tuck them back into his pocket.

Gob shook his head slowly. "That's not what I'm worried about." Not sure what to do but wanting the sad, bewildered look off of Cort's face, he tentatively pushed the forgotten soda back in front of her. "Don't forget this, huh?"

"Oh! No, I won't. Thank you."

Gob watched her smile and drink the fizzy beverage happily, shaking his head. It was like watching a switch being flipped in her. Busying himself when two scavengers drifted in for booze, he left Cort alone for a long while, who continued to sit contentedly at the bar while waiting for him to finish. Whatever had happened was nuts, but he had his letters back, and it had been nice seeing Moriarty taken down a few pegs for once. Gob felt better the more he thought about it, and the kid _was_ perfectly calm now. She had probably just lost her temper over all the hard work it had taken her to bring the letters back to him being wasted, and there was no way Moriarty could do anything to her. Not the girl who had done all the things on the radio. Him, after Cort left, maybe, which Gob decided firmly not to tell her about. That wouldn't hurt her, and she couldn't change it anyway. He'd take an extra whack or two in trade for what he had seen today, and what he was seeing now. The kid was still smiling a little, pretty grey eyes following him occasionally as he worked. She was always so kind to him, and even Charon had looked close to something resembling what might have been happy last ni- _Wait. Last night_.

Gob paused, thinking hard about the previous evening, then internally shrugged, walking over to lean in front of her again. _What the hell, it hurt less to go out on a limb and fall off than regret not trying, and I've got a long time to regret. I'd rather get my feelings hurt than stop having them, even if everything does suck._ "Cort?"

She blinked and moved her eyes back to him. "Yeees?" Gob focused on those and rushed forward before he lost his nerve.

"What you said about smoothskin men yesterday. D-did you mean it?"

"So far, yeah, actually. I met more nice guys in Underworld than I did out here. I think you and Crow are probably the only ones outside of there who haven't been total dicks to me. Maybe some in Lyon's Pride." Cort's face fell. "I miss Crow. I really miss Crow. That was the first time I've been totally happy since...well since I got out _here_."

Gob slumped a little inside. _I knew I was crazy. Well, nothing ventured._ _"_You have a thing for him, huh."

"I don't have a thing for anybody, really, Gob. Maybe I could've, but I don't think so any more. I'm...different now. There's...things I can't do anymore. And I can't stop looking for my Dad, so that kind of throws a wrench in everything. Like my entire life. I'm pretty sure that was my fault anyway, as it is. Pardon the awful pun, but I think my relation-ship has sailed. It would have been nice, though." Cort rested her chin on the mouth of her Nuka bottle and stared blankly at the back wall for a moment before continuing. "Besides, I've got good friends like you, and Charon, and I've got Dogmeat. That's more than enough. Really." Squeezing her eyes tightly shut for a moment, she drained the last of her soda and pushed back while blinking rapidly to keep from weeping in front of the bartender, not wanting to upset him. "I'm gonna go Gob, okay? I'm still tired from yesterday. I'll see you tomorrow before I go for anything you want to send back down to Carol."

Gob watched her dart out the door, wishing for all the world he could run after her to fix whatever it was he had just done, and not daring to. Fighting down his own urge to cry with a skill born from long practice and abuse, he picked up a glass and started polishing it.

* * *

**Charon** jerked up from where he had been dozing on the couch when Cort burst into the house and slapped the door shut, leaning against it and staring wide-eyed at nothing. Looking at her, he swore under his breath. _Oh holy fuck. Something's set her off her nut again. Here we fucking go._ "Alright, what radroach crawled up your fucking ass this time?"

"Nothing. I was just talking with Gob and I got tired and I wanted to come home, okay?" Charon frowned and walked closer. The kid's eyes were too shiny and she still wasn't looking anywhere aside from straight ahead.

"Like hell nothing. Don't tell me that pathetic mess did something to fuck you up this much. Did someone do something to the mutt?" Charon doubted anything could have happened to the dog without Cort loudly murdering whoever was responsible, but it was the only thing he could think of after noticing his absence.

Cort snapped her head around to face him. "Dogmeat's playing with one of the kids, and that pathetic mess is the reason you're out here with me, Charon. I couldn't get him out, so I got you out, but he's not you, so try not to despise him too much, huh? Not everyone can be as perfect as you are."

Charon looked at her, incredulous. "_That's_ who you were too fucking gutless to get out? You spent fucking _weeks_ busting up shit to buy my contract off Ahzrukhal, and you couldn't figure out how to pay off some shithead Irishman in a pissant town for a fucking lousy _bartender_?"

Cort practically screeched at him in response. "I _can't_ get him out! Don't you think I've wracked my brains out on it and everything else, all I _do_ is fucking think all the time! There's no way that bastard is as easy to fool as Ahzrukhal was and I could never come up with enough caps, he'd just jack the amount up to hell out of spite. I can't kill him, not as long as I need to have a safe place to come while I'm trying to find my fucking Dad. All I want to do is stop and I can't and I hate it. I can't do the right thing and I hate it, I don't even know what the right thing to do_ is_ anymore and I _hate _it_, _and I _hate HIM_. _He fucking left and I HATE HIM_!" Cort dropped the floor and bawled, finally cracking again under the strain of everything.

Charon positively gaped at her before swearing again, loudly. "Fuck kid, knock it off!" Cort hunched and cried even harder. Charon put his hands on the back of his head and shifted from foot to foot, staring. This was the last thing he had ever expected to come out of her, and he had no idea how to handle it. Generally the ghoul had made people cry for _fun_, not tried to stop someone from doing it. _I can't even go get the motherfucking _dog _to come fix this, I'd have to shove her away from the shitting door to leave and there's no fucking way any part of that plan would fly over well. _

Standing there for a few more minutes and getting no new ideas, Charon winced when she started winding up into flat out wails. _Fucking fuck it. I'll move her to the couch and tell her I'm going to find the fucking dog, she'll just have to deal with it._ Walking over to the door, Charon shoved his hands under Cort's arms and lifted, staggering back and grunting when she launched herself up at him._ Yeah, this was a fucking _fantastic _idea. What the hell do I do now_. The girl was latched onto him, arms wrapped around his neck and legs around his waist in what was practically a death grip. Also, his neck was getting decidedly and disturbingly _wet_ where her face was buried into it.

"Fuck." Briefly considering trying to peel or shake her off and dismissing both just as quickly, Charon placed an arm around her hips for balance and walked slowly back and forth, trying to think of what a normal person would do. She was crying. People cried because they were sad. People stopped when they were happier. What made the kid happy. The motherfucking _dog_ made the kid happy. He couldn't go get the dog without humiliating _both_ of them unless the kid let go, and the kid wasn't letting go because she was sad. Breathing firmly and slowly out, Charon tried to find a way out of the circle he had just made in his head. _Okay. So what would the fucking dog do to make her happ...aw, crap. No. No fucking way_.

What finally decided him was noticing the very pertinent fact that Cort had become quieter, if not any drier, since being picked up. Giving in, Charon wrapped his other arm around her back and made the closest approximation to cuddling that he was capable of. For a moment he panicked, thinking he had made it even worse when she gripped tighter, then relaxed when her crying started to settle down. Back starting to ache, he moved over to the couch and sat down on the edge, waiting. Cort mumbled out a question some time later, after her breathing had evened out.

"What am I supposed to do now?" Sighing heavily, he answered.

"Finish the shit you started and find your jackhole old man. Get that particular nightmare the _fuck_ over with, it's driving you crazy. Then we can do whatever you want, to whoever you want. Go anywhere. Rip shit apart. Maybe let the fuck go of me at some point." Twitching, Cort slid off of him immediately and clumsily moved down the couch, clearly embarrassed.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Charon rolled his eyes and roughly pulled her back against his side, then wiped at the damp patch on his neck with his free hand.

"Fuck's sakes, Cort. You wear me out, you know that?"

* * *

**Dogmeat** clicked up the ramp and around the side of his world's den sometime in the early evening, thoroughly and happily worn out. He had spent the entire afternoon tearing around Megaton with the boy, and it had been nice to play. Grabbing the doorknob in his mouth, he twisted it open and pushed his way inside, then skidded to a halt. Something had upset his world; he could smell it saturated into everything. Turning to look for what needed to be ripped apart, he saw her slumped against the big one, who was slouched back and dozing with an arm draped around her.

Padding over he sniffed carefully at them both. Whatever had gone wrong, the big one seemed to have been a good moon and fixed it, however a _very _good moon wouldn't have allowed it to happen in the first place. Crawling up on his world's other side after returning to push the door shut, he put his head in her lap and whuffed quietly when she rubbed his ears. He would make it a point later to make sure the big one learned how to prevent things, but for now he was tired, and fell asleep with her tugging at his fur.

* * *

_I've actually trained a couple of my cats how to open the lever type door handles inside my house, so Dogmeat should be able to handle one he can fit in his mouth. Also, never teach cats how to open your freaking bedroom door. Unless I lock it now I'm up at 3 in the morning with a paw flicking my nose. _


	35. Unwanted Knowledge

**Cort** woke up early the next morning in her bed, Dogmeat unfortunately sprawled over one of her legs. After gently pulling the limb out, she hopped around cursing and stamping, trying to get the blood flow back into her foot until Charon yelled from the other room.

"The _fuck_ you doing in there, herding Brahmin?"

"No! My foot's asleep, if you frigging must knoOwp!" She yelped as the pins and needles started to hit.

"No fucking wonder with the ass to face way you sprawl out."

Scowling at the wall and still hopping slightly, Cort stripped off Butch's jacket, then opened her door and went downstairs to wash up. She paused at the foot of the stairs for a moment, looking at Wadsworth who was still dormant in the corner. Without anything new to do he had apparently opted to stay out of the way. "Wadsworth?" Instantly the Mister Handy putted up to life.

"Good morning Madam! What do you require today?"

"We'll be leaving again this morning, so I'd like the remaining two bottles of water for this week, and thank you for cleaning up all that armour and junk."

"Madam is most kind. Would there be anything else required before you depart?" Cort took the water as the robot dispensed it and scratched the back of her head, thinking.

"Do I have any paper and pens?"

"In your desk, Madam. Third drawer down with the small explosive devices you keep bringing back."

"Oh, good. Now, you're sure you don't want me to bring you anything? I'll be gone for a while, but I can probably drag something home."

If a robot could look nervous, Wadsworth was doing it, eyestalks twitching and propellant vents giving a momentary sputter. "Well Madam. If it would not be a terrible imposition. I would like wire."

Cort raised an eyebrow. "Wire? What kind of wire?"

"Any kind Madam. All sorts, if you please." Cort shrugged.

"Okay then. There's extra stuff shoved in the lockers you can have, I've got a selection of it in my pack already for things."

"Oh thank you, Madam! I shall prepare your and the Sirs' belongings to depart."

Shrugging again, Cort watched him start to array their packs and armour before grabbing clean clothing and walking to the kitchen area to bathe. Coming out some time later with an armful of food, she handed the dirty things to Wadsworth and then used the bookshelf next to the staircase as a sideboard. _I need to get a table or something for in here. Thinking of all the things you need for a house is way harder than it should be._ Grabbing an apple and a box of Mac N' Cheese after filling Dogmeat's bowls, she flopped onto the couch as Charon came downstairs, the dog tailing him. "Breakfast's on the thingie there." Both grunted and went over to eat, and after finishing her own, Cort trotted back upstairs to her desk. _Now where-aha. There it is._ Pulling out a piece of old paper and a battered pen from under a generous pile of Cherry Bombs, she sat down and made a detailed but slightly inaccurate forgery of Charon's contract, then shoved it into a back pocket. _There. Now that's all done. God willing it won't have to be used_. Gently pushing until she could feel the hard spot under her chest and smiling, she went down to finish the rest of her business.

* * *

**After** having a private discussion with Moira involving multiple apologies and securing a sample of her radiation treatment for Barrows, Cort stopped in to see Gob, who had just opened the saloon for the day.

"Hey Gob, got your return message ready?" She smiled when he came around the bar and held up a few faded pages from an old book, a darker looping scrawl covering the illegible print. "You got paper!"

"Yeah. Nova pulled some out of the book leveling her bedpost and gave me a pencil." Cort took the proffered sheets and tucked them carefully away, then looked around. They were the only ones in the saloon.

"Where the hell is everybody?"

"Oh, both sleeping. Nova works late most nights and Moriarty's just drunk." He whispered the latter admission after a quick glance over his shoulder. "I don't mind having to get up earlier. It's nice to have the quiet time to myself." He tilted his head back and shoved his hands in his pockets, looking apprehensive. "Look, I'm sorry if I upset you yesterday. I didn't mean to make you leave. That's the last thing I wanted to do, you're always so nice to me. I'm sorry."

"Of course I'm nice, you're family. And it's okay Gob. I was just having a really crap day, and I'm better now. See?" Cort bounced on the balls of her feet and clapped. "Happy me again." When all he did was give her a pained, uncertain expression, she rolled her eyes and impulsively hugged him, pressing her cheek against his chest. After yesterday there was no way she could stand leaving him again if he was upset for any reason. "See? Only happy people give bear hugs. Now knock it off with that gloomy Gus bullshit."

Gob didn't know what was killing him more, her warm breath coming through his thin shirt, or the fact that his arms were pinned with his hands stuck in his pockets, preventing him from returning the embrace without breaking it. He was staring into her hair, furiously trying to think of something to do and how to respond to what she had said when she released him again just as quickly.

"All better?" Cort was looking up at him questioningly and clearly oblivious to the full ramifications of what she had just done to him.

_I'm_ family_? Oh sweet Jesus. Oh Jesus, she's still looking at me. That can I do. I can live with that. Can I ever live with that. That's enough. That's awesome._ "Yeah. I'm all better. But, uh." Gob shuffled and coughed and decided to go out on another limb, practically climbing a forest with Cort at this point.

"But what?"

He pulled his hands out of his pockets and tentatively held his arms up, smiling slightly. "Hands were in my pockets the first time."

Cort laughed and hugged him again, this time getting one in return. Hugs were _good_. After breaking off, she headed for the door. "I'll see you when I get back, kay?"

"Okay. Come back soon!" Gob turned back to the bar, whistling to himself as the door shut. He snapped his head around in terror before getting to it when a voice floated down from above.

"So the little bitch thinks of you as surrogate _family_, does she? Doesn't that explain a lot." Moriarty was leaning out of the darkness from the upper railing, smiling in a way that made Gob's guts loosen up. "Well my fine fellow, we're just going to have to make you fit and ready to welcome her back home, won't we? We'll make sure the lost little lamb blames herself for it too, just like dear old Dad."

Gob quailed even further. "You-you heard..."

"Colin hears _everything_ in his own house, you rotting, ungrateful bastard. Including the caps that went back across the bar." He cracked his knuckles and started down the stairs.

* * *

**Charon** was armoured up and had Dogmeat ready by the time Cort got back, happily singing to herself.

"Fucking _finally_. Can we blow out of this dive now? I'm bored as fuck." She started slinging her armour on as he handed the pieces to her.

"Yeah yeah, keep your shorts on. We're about to be not bored and bleeding again soon."

Pausing to flick her bottle of purified water at the beggar who got their attention in front of Megaton, pointedly ignoring Charon's responding snort, the three of them headed back to Farragut West. From there it would be a relatively straight shot down the Potomac to Rivet City, and hopefully their last stop. Cort held no illusions about that being at all likely, but clung to it anyway. For now she was in a rare and perfect good mood that was only enhanced by the various violent encounters they were running into. Practice had turned the clashes with raiders and Talon Company virtually into a game for all of them, Cort dropping some with her repeater before they even noticed she was there.

There were a few nasty moments with Super Mutants as there always were, and a particularly harrowing incident with a Giant Radscorpion which had made it surprisingly close to the city. Charon had been knocked backwards into a wrecked car and missed being impaled only through Cort launching herself at the stinger, hanging on for dear life. The ghoul rammed his shotgun into the thing's mouth and unloaded a moment later, cursing and screaming in counterpoint to Cort's crazy laughing.

After trading with a rather odd woman named Grandma Sparkle once they had reached the banks of the Potomac, they stopped for the day around late evening, bunking under the Arlington Memorial Bridge in a raider camp they had cleared out.

"This isn't a bad shelter, for all it's in the middle of crazytown." Cort was hunched over and getting Charon to pull buckshot out of her back, having been winged by a raider hiding behind a pillar she had failed to check when passing.

"Oh fuck yeah, raiders, mutants, and the Citadel on your doorstep. It's fucking picturesque. Let's move in, we can repaint with the blood you're losing."

She grunted while he dragged out a particularly deep set piece of shot and scowled. "I'm not bleeding _that_ much."

"Yes you are." Charon snapped, sounding frustrated. "If it wasn't for the mutt this would've blown your fucking fool head off instead of just skimming over your back. You're still way too fucking sloppy when you close in on something." Cort yelped when he finished and rammed a Stimpak into her back. "Serves you right."

Sticking her tongue out and pulling her bloody shirt back on as Charon pulled his off, Cort turned to reciprocate the treatment for the slashes running up the ghoul's side. Delicately patting at the edges, she soaked a rag in glowing water and started mopping at the rents. "At least I didn't decide to go do the samba with a Goddamned Ripper."

"Oh, _pardon me_ for being occupied with saving your dumb ass. And what the fuck are you doing using your bare hands again? That's something else you're careless with. You spend way too much time irradiated, knock it the fuck off."

Cort rolled her eyes, privately enjoying the soothing effect the radiation was having on her own aches. "Yes, mother hen. I've got lots of Rad-Away, it's fine." At some point she would have to figure out how to broach the subject of her regeneration to the ghoul, but wasn't sure how. After talking to Barrows and Moira about certain side-effects that had come up, Cort wasn't sure she wanted to talk to anyone about it ever again, including herself. Considering his own worse state, she was not expecting him to be particularly sympathetic over her much smaller concerns. Completing her ministrations, she rolled off the ledge they were sitting on and started pulling out blankets, Charon mimicking her in a moment. "I'll do first watch, I can't sleep right now anyway."

Shrugging, the ghoul sprawled out on the floor. "What are we doing tomorrow?"

Cort blew out a breath and twirled a dial on her Pip-Boy. "Cross over the river, then we can backtrack up a bit to do two of Moira's errands at the Anchorage Memorial and the Tepid Sewers. Mirelurks and molerats, oh my. Then down to Rivet City. We'll have to pass the Jefferson Memorial to get there, apparently there's a shitload of Super Mutants on the way."

"_Fabulous_. Wake me when you're ready." He rolled over and was asleep within minutes, Dogmeat on Cort's blankets beside him.

Pulling a chair over to the shadow of one of the pillars Cort sat down, wrapped her arms around her middle and watched the stars slowly spin by, wishing on each one for things she knew she would never get back.

* * *

**Cort **had opted to swim the river across a narrow point past the bridge, that particular structure leading deeper into the ruins than she felt comfortable going. After slogging out onto the other shore, they had traded off their surplus spoils to a scavenger camped under the far side of the bridge. Cort had finished the transactions up and left abruptly when Three Dog came over the scavenger's radio talking about her search for James, and she vented a substantial amount of frustration out on a raider camp just before the entrance to the sewers. Going in they found even more raiders, and after dispatching them and moving deeper, Cort found her first molerat to test Moira's repellent stick on. The initial results were surprising.

Blinking through the blood now covering her visor, she turned to Charon. "Uh. Uh oh. I don't think that's what Moira meant for it to do."

"Are you kidding? That's motherfucking _fantastic_. Give it over!"

"Screw you, it's my head-exploding stick!" Laughing, Cort pushed at him and raced after the next molerat farther down the tunnell, Charon pounding behind her and Dogmeat hot on both their heels. "Oooh oh shit, stop!" Skidding to a halt, they were just in time to see their next target blown to pieces by a frag mine. Smiling up at the ghoul she bounced on the balls of her feet, seeing more red lights in the darkness. "Teach me how to do mines?"

The rest of the morning was spent alternately disarming explosives or making heads explode, molerat and otherwise. Once they had finished looting the sewers and patching up their various bite and bullet wounds, they moved down to the Anchorage Memorial, Charon becoming more and more agitated the closer they got to it.

"You can't seriously intend to go the fuck in there alone." He was leaning with his arms crossed against the entrance to the Memorial, all three of them splattered with Mirelurk blood from the giant crabs that had been guarding clutches next to the river outside.

"Yes, I can. There's less chance of them detecting only me, and we can't kill anything inside or the data will end up being skewed. Now shoo." Cort was getting annoyed. This was the first chance she had had to assist with research in weeks and she missed it dearly. The lab in the Vault had been one of her favourite places, and while exciting, the Wasteland was deathly slim on giving up anything that could be considered an intellectual pursuit. As Cort saw it, this was the best of both worlds in one afternoon.

"For _fuck's_ sakes!" Charon finally shifted away from the door, now looking decidedly pissed. Cort patted him on the arm and slid on one of the Stealth Boys from the MoT, the others tied to her belt.

"Don't worry, this won't take long, and they can't see me. Besides, I've got my repeater and a bunch of grenades just in case. Now _stay here_." Clicking the device on, she slipped through the door and disappeared.

_Oh, this is fantastic! These things are amazing_. _ Too bad they're only single use_. Cort made her way silently down into the Memorial, quietly plucking up any choice loot she saw while avoiding the giant crabs. She had a moment to consider that she was finding things like this exhilarating instead of terrifying anymore when a slender, humanoid Mirelurk with flaring neck gills swung towards her, sniffing. _Ooooh shit. What the fuckity fuck is that one._ Pressing herself against the wall, Cort held her breath, willing it to move on. It finally did right before her Stealth Boy gave out, and she slapped the second one into place and put on more speed. _Okay a little terrifying. Let's get out of here now. Nownownow._

Slipping down into the spawning pool, she placed Moira's device into one of the clutches and turned to leave, stalling when the way was blocked by several Mirelurks who had descended behind her. Pressing against the wall as they moved around, she fought down a crazed panic. _What the hell are they doing? What...ooh no. Oh GOD no._

* * *

**Charon** had been pacing back and forth in front of the door for close to an hour, getting more and more worked up the longer Cort was gone, even resorting to talking to the dog.

"We're going in there in five minutes. I don't give a shit for that fuckwad's research, we'll blow everything to hell and get her back. She didn't tell us how _long_ to fucking stay." Dogmeat whuffed in reply just as the door burst open, Cort's last Stealth-Boy fizzing out as she slapped the door shut again and leaned against it, panting. Charon spun to face her, scowling. "Fucking finally, what the fuck _took_ you so long?" She swiveled her head around, eyes wide with one brow cocked in a weird expression.

"Do you know what it looks like when Mirelurks have sex?"

"Cort, what the f-"

"Because NOW I DO." Cort staggered away from the door after grabbing her pack, shuddering every few steps and making '_bleagh_' noises as Dogmeat trotted beside her. "Let's just get to Rivet City so I can pour some vodka in my eyes and then get drunk on what's left." Giving herself a final juddering shake and throwing the used up piece of tech away, she headed for Rivet City, Charon shaking his head and following.


	36. Emotional Elevators

**"You** want to go in? There might be some good shit in there, the way its been built up on." Cort and Charon were bellied up behind a huge chunk of concrete, looking at the Jefferson Memorial, the domed structure laced with dozens of pipes and scaffolding. Cort tapped her tongue on the front of her teeth, replying to his query a moment later.

"Hell no. It looks like it's crawling with Super Mutants even from the outside. That's the _last_ place I want to go. Let's just drop the fuckers we can see and get the hell down to Rivet City." Charon shrugged and started throwing grenades as Cort lined up shots with her repeater, both of them hitting the dirt a minute later after hearing the whirr of a Mini-Gun warming up. "See? Last place I ever want to go. Clusterfuck waiting to happen. Probably die in there or something. Fucking boogers." Reloading as they waited for the mutant to run out of shells, dust from their shelter puffed around them, Charon flicking pebbles off of his chest as they came flying over from the far side.

"I think we can already classify this as a clusterfuck."

Cort spun around as the mutant's gun whirred to a stop and made her rifle sing out as the ghoul beside her pitched mines like frisbees, combat shotgun booming in his other hand. "Naaah. This is just _fun_." She grinned, Charon slowly matching her.

"Yeah."

* * *

**They** heard Rivet City before they saw it, a metallic groaning that almost sounded like a continuous booming sob. The carrier rose out of the landscape like a beached and broken rusting whale. Cort could see little figures on different parts of it like tiny barnacles. Slogging through the last part of the journey, they had run into another mutant encampment, blood-soaked girders streaking into the air like the teeth of some diseased animal breaking through the shattered earth. Cort had freed a captive Wastelander who had promptly run screaming back into the growing dark after Charon had appeared behind her.

"He's fucking toast." The ghoul snorted and spat to the side.

Cort shrugged and looked up at him. "Well, he was probably pretty dingy already anyway, what with all the gore bags and impaled parts."

Charon stared after the disappearing figure with a withering look on his face. "Like I give a shit."

Sighing, she flapped an arm at both her companions. "Come on, we're almost there."

Charon brought up the rear as Cort and Dogmeat trotted ahead towards the scaffolding rising up next to the ship on the riverbank. Rivet City was connected to the mainland by a rotating drawbridge which was currently closed, and he was considering how they were going to enter into the carrier when both the girl and dog took off running. _Oh, what the flying fuck now._ Jogging behind them he lifted his shotgun and then lowered it again just as quickly, puzzled as Cort shucked her pack and helmet to pick up speed, her repeater held at the base of the barrel. Whatever she was doing, it wasn't responding to an attack. Both figures skidded to a dust-kicking halt in front of a caravan swinging into his view, Cort crashing into the arms of a man who had braced himself for the onslaught.

"Crow!"

"Cort!"

Wrapping his arms around her, the merchant lifted Cort and spun her before putting her feet back on the ground and placing his hands on her shoulders. Dogmeat dancing around them both, she beamed up at him. " I missed you."

"And I you. It is good to see you again." Crow took in her forming tan and hardened figure and smiled. " I see you are adapting well. Have you found what you are looking for yet?"

Cort momentarily frowned. "Not yet, that's why we're here. Three Dog told me my father had come to Rivet City, so here I am. Oh! This is Charon." Turning to look for the ghoul, she found him standing over by Marion, both of them looking terminally bored. "Hi Marion."

"Yo."

Crow tipped the brim of his ball cap at Charon, smiling, then turned back to Cort. "I can't remain long, we're heading back out to the Wasteland with new stock from the carrier. I need to move past the mutant camp yonder while the dark remains. I do have time for supper, if the spirits are kind enough to have you tarry for a while before continuing?"

Cort grinned broadly and slid an arm around his waist as he draped one over her shoulders, heading back towards the pack Brahmin. "Well, about those mutants..."

* * *

**Charon **was ready to crawl up any available wall after spending half the night watching the two friends socializing. Some time after eating, both him and the caravan guard had wordlessly retreated to opposite corners and set a watch when it was clear neither party was going to be moving for a while, the ghoul's face in a perpetual scowl. Cort had called Dogmeat over to show the improvements she had made to the dog's armour, and then spent time animatedly trading stories and information with Crow. Finally breaking away after midnight, the merchant leaned in and reciprocated the farewell Cort had made the last time she had seen him in Megaton.

She looked up at him when he stopped, flushed and happy. Even if she wasn't going to allow herself to become involved with anyone anymore, the rare casual familiarity with the transient Crow was definitely nice. _Oh, holy God it's nice. Safe, non-committal and nice._ Cort considered she should be more depressed at the restrictions she had placed upon herself and the reasons for it, but was enjoying her current hormonal high too much to care. "Didn't forget that, huh?"

"Never. I'll see you when I see you, Cort." He smiled and tipped his hat, crouching to rub Dogmeat's ears, then signalled to Marion and slapped the Brahmin into motion.

"Back at you, Crow." Grinning like a fool, she watched the caravan disappear into the darkness and turned to Charon, who was making gagging motions. "Oh, grow up. Let's see if we can get into the city." Trudging their way slowly up the ramps and staircases, they climbed towards the top platform. Peering around, Cort found an intercom attached to a beam and started jabbing at the call button until it crackled to life.

"_Do you have any idea what time it is_?" She flipped up her Pip-Boy.

"_Tweellve_ forty-eight a.m., why?" After hearing what she was fairly certain were muffled profanities, a calmer voice came over the intercom.

"_Welcome to Rivet City, please wait while the bridge extends_." All three of them watched as the cabled walkway swung out towards them, shrieking, twanging and finally crashing into place. Cort slipped the cover back over her Pip-Boy and started walking for the other side, jerking to a halt at the far end when a sandy-haired man in security combat armour wielding an assault rifle yelled out to her.

"Hold it right there. State your business in Rivet City." Suppressing a desire to grab for her repeater, she called back.

"I'm here to see Doctor Li. I was told my father came here to see them, about three months ago. Please tell me, is he still here? His name is James. He's tall, bearded, wearing one of these." Cort ripped the cover off of her Pip-Boy again and held it up, heart in her throat.

"There was someone like that around the time you're asking about, but they left soon after getting into the city."

Cort listlessly dropped her arm back down, staring dully at him, her earlier optimism gone. _Always the same answer. Always_. "Do you know where he went?"

"Well, you'll have to ask Doctor Li for more information on that. You'll find her in the Science Lab, but they've probably all bedded down for the night, so I'd suggest heading to the hotel or the Common Room until morning. You'll find both on the way, just follow the signs." He holstered his rifle and waved them through to the left-hand door off the entryway. "Keep your nose clean while you're in my city, hear me?"

"Well, thank you, Mister...?"

"Harkness. I'm the security chief." He paused and looked down at Dogmeat, who was sniffing around his knees avidly, pressing his nose into the side of Harkness' leg. "Yours?"

"Yeah, sorry. He must smell something new on you, he's normally not so pushy. Dogmeat, come on." Reluctantly breaking away after a few more draughts of air, he clicked after Cort and Charon as they entered the ship. "Let's find the hotel, Charon. I don't want us to sleep in the open, and waking Doctor Li up will probably piss her off. She'll probably want me to go do something stupid anyway, it's fucking formulaic at this point, and jabbing at her in the middle of the night won't help."

Following the posted signs through the damp corridors, they came into a larger room with a circular desk manned by a Mister Handy, who spoke to them in a voice similar to Wadsworth's. "Good evening, how may I assist you?"

Cort dug out her cap bag. "I'd like a room, please." She looked up questioningly when the robot said nothing, only examining them carefully with all three eyestalks.

"Don't you think you and your..._companion_ would be more comfortable in the Common Room, Madam?"

Face hardening, she slapped the bag down on the desk, the contents jouncing around. "I think I'd be comfortable asking whoever owns you whether or not they want my _fucking_ money. Room. Please."

Of course, Madam. One hundred and twenty caps, door around the corner to the right."

Counting them out, Cort scattered them violently across the desk and headed for the room, slamming the door and locking it after both Charon and Dogmeat were through. "I should reprogram that thing to sing 'Daisy Bell' until it dies."

"I don't think that would fly over too fucking well." She watched Charon remove his pack and armour, then spread out his blanket next to the door.

"No, but it would be funny. People are assholes. Even not-people are assholes, and they _shouldn't_ be."

He looked over and rolled his eyes. "It doesn't _fucking_ matter what they are. Go to sleep, Cort."

"No. Not tired." Crossing her arms she backed against the wall and looked dejectedly at him, biting back a yawn or a sob, not being sure of which after the way her day had turned. Walking over Charon snaked an arm around her waist and yanked her towards him, then started pulling off her pack and armour, easily pushing her hands down when she fussed and tried to stop him.

"Yeah, you're not tired at _all_, noodle arms. Fucking liar." Unclipping the last piece, he slung her bodily onto the bed and then went to his own blanket. "Go to _sleep_, Cort."

Staring up at the dim grey ceiling, Cort gave in and pulled Dogmeat in tight when he jumped up next to her. Pushing at the subject wouldn't do anything but get the ghoul's back up, and there was nothing she could do to fix it right now. Listening to the ship groan around her, she instead considered what would be happening tomorrow. There was a good possibility that they would be staying in the carrier for the entire day, since one of Moira's tasks involved questioning the residents and she wanted to complete her obligations to the friendly, crazy woman. A book that could possibly help people out here was a good thing, considering the hell she herself had gone through after being thrust out of the Vault. Cort also wanted to visit the merchants and resupply. Crow had said there were multiple stores, including an arms dealer which she was particularly keen to investigate.

After talking to Doctor Li, she figured she would either be shortly reunited with her father, or sent haring off into the Capital Wasteland yet again. _ What the hell am I supposed to do when I find him? Aside from ask what the fuck he was thinking, and what this 'Project Purity' thing is that was apparently so damned important. We can't go back to 101, I'm never going back there. The Vault was a lie. My whole life was a lie._ Cort closed her eyes and held her breath, listening for the even rasping of Charon's. After isolating it from the other myriad sounds around her, she let her own out to match up with his and resumed thinking. _That's not a lie_. _Whatever happens, I have him. And Dogmeat. And Gob, Crow, Barrows, Carol, Winthrop, Graves, Tulip, even Moira. I have people. I won't be alone again even if I don't ever find Dad._ Biting her lip, she rolled into the dog and pressed her hand against the hard spot under her chest, incredibly lonely and wishing for sleep.

* * *

**Charon** tilted his head to the side, finally hearing Cort begin to snore. _About fucking time_. Watching her deflate after talking to the security chief had left him sure that she would have another hard time of it trying to sleep, and the damned snotty robot hadn't shifted his opinion on the matter. He had taken the initiative to head off another suspected meltdown with the leeway he knew he had to direct her, and successfully deflected Cort into another, more productive objective. The girl had a tendency to be overly sensitive to the justifiably negative reactions to him; he was a monstrosity and he accepted it, and at some point she would have to grow a thicker skin in response to the barbs of others. Others were inconsequential and tiny, for him there was only his employer. His batshit, unstable, hideously _annoying_ and somehow increasingly valuable employer.

Making a mental note to ensure Cort ate in the morning before flinging herself into a new series of idiotic pursuits, Charon turned his face back to the ceiling and slept.

* * *

_Woo, thanks for the new reviews and faves!_


	37. Recordings

**Cort** was fighting extremely hard against the impulse to thrust Madison Li's nose up into her face, all too easy to visualize thanks to the Pugilism Illustrated magazines she had been pouring over lately. The woman was thoroughly infuriating.

She had started her day agreeably enough. Wandering through the corridors with Dogmeat she questioned the carrier's citizens about various things while munching an apple Charon had thrown at her as soon as she had gotten up, flicking the core to the dog when she finished nibbling at it. Still too early for the Science Lab's staff to be about, she had been hailed by a somewhat unsettling elderly man upon entering; balding, bespectacled and wearing a grey suit he trotted over to her from the corner of the lab.

"You! You look too...weathered to be a lab assistant. Are you for hire?" Cort blinked at what was either an insult or a compliment on her appearance and answered him, idly watching Dogmeat approach the man's guard, who was ignoring the dog entirely. He sniffed interestedly for a brief moment at the guard's legs, seeming to confirm something, then returned to sit beside her, panting.

"Depends on what you want to hire me for. I'm on business of my own here."

"I assure you, it would be well worth your time. I'm looking for some particularly _valuable_ missing property." He rubbed his hands together, and Cort's eye twitched at the papery sound they made, echoing in the quiet lab. Already deciding that the man was another trolley heading for crazytown but with ample time to kill, she plunged in.

"Well, go ahead and shoot. What kind of property?"

"You'll be searching for an android! Do you know what an android is? No, I imagine you don't."

Cort smiled benignly. "It's a robot designed to act as a functioning passable facsimile of a human being. Probably quite difficult to produce considering the degradation of modern technology today."

The man gobbled for a moment before catching himself, looking shrewdly at her. "My, appearances can be deceiving. Was I wrong about you being an assistant of Doctor Li's?"

"No, I'm just a scientifically minded itinerant medic. So, androids?" Cort rocked up on the balls of her feet with her hands laced behind her back, thoroughly intrigued by the man, creepy vibes notwithstanding.

"Yes. I am Doctor Zimmer, from the Commonwealth, a great and advanced area to the north of here. We have created true androids, thinking feeling persons who do what we program them to do. Like any complex systems however, there are occasional problems with them. They get confused, and wander off."

Drawing her brows together, she stared at him speculatively. Cort was beginning to not like where this was going, starting in around the 'programming of thinking feeling persons'. "And this involves me how again?"

"Why, I want you to help me find him! He must have done something incredibly drastic by now, like reconstructive surgery or a mind-wipe, possibly both. Otherwise I should have located him by now. You should start by investigating with doctors and any technicians this area may have to offer, although most of them will very primitive indeed. He might even think he is an actual person at this point. Don't worry about talking to him, you would only cause him distress. Just locate, and then come back to me so I can retrieve him for reprogramming."

Cort crossed her arms and looked down, thinking rapidly. Rearranging your face and committing memory suicide did not sound like particularly confused behaviour to her. What it sounded like was a desperate and viciously executed plan to get gone and stay gone. _Reprogramming a thinking feeling person. I don't particularly like the sound of that even if the guy's insides look like a toaster. I _do_ like the sound of me warning them and throwing this little creepy gnome off the trail._ Reaching a decision, she looked back up to Zimmer.

"Sure. I can't promise it will be quick though, I'll have to cover a lot of ground to reach the people out there. What can I expect for payment?"

"Oh my heavens, I completely forgot. I can offer you technology from the Commonwealth, wonderfully advanced by your standards. You'll be the envy of all your friends! Remember, come back to me first once you have found him, I have a room taken out aboard ship. I can't tell you how pleased I am, Doctor Li would not even give me the time of day, too occupied playing with her little chemistry sets." Patting her on the shoulder, he motioned to his guard and made his way out of the lab. Cort rubbed vigourously at the spot he had touched and settled in to wait for Doctor Li to appear, poking through the equipment and notes on the various tables and reading avidly. She was jerked out of her investigations by a cross voice coming up behind her.

"Look, this a restricted area and I'm tired of telling you people...oh my God." Speaking was an older asian woman in a labcoat and skirt, who jerked to a halt a few feet from Cort when she had turned around. "You look so much like him. You're James' daughter, aren't you. What are you _doing_ here?"

"Hello to you too, lady. You're Doctor Li?" Cort continued when the woman silently nodded. "Looking for him, since he left without leaving a forwarding address. Now would you mind telling me where he is, and why the hell he's out here, if you please?"

"He's trying to restart Project Purity. Years ago, your parents and I worked on it together, but when your mother died James decided to abandon our work and leave with you, forcing all of us to do the same. Because of your birth, the entire project was abandoned, and I returned to Rivet City. It was all I had left." Li paused. "You don't know where he is? I assumed he was the one who had sent you here. For that matter, aren't you supposed to be safe in a Vault?" Cort bristled at the unwanted diatribe, finding it far too close to home. Firmly jamming her hands into her pockets to prevent something unpleasant from happening, she glared at the woman.

"I left it to look for him after he abandoned _me_. Staying in there wasn't something I wanted to do."

I was under the impression that's the exact opposite of what _he_ wanted for you."

"Well, as I'm sure you're aware, we don't always get the things we want, Doctor Li. Now will you kindly tell me where I can find my father?" Whatever Cort said had touched off a similar nerve with the older woman.

"No, we certainly do not. And I have no idea where James has gone. I would assume back to the old lab. Now kindly _leave_ so I can return to my work."

Cort shrugged. "Just tell me where the lab is and I'll beat feet."

"It's in the Jefferson Memorial. I don't recommend going, and I told your father as much. It's not safe."

_Oh, just fucking peachy. It just had to be there, didn't it_. Scowling, she fired off another question. "I'm not safe. What is Project Purity?"

The woman looked at her for a long moment before replying. "It's a discarded dream, given up and dead. That's all I'm going to say." Walking over to dig around in a file cabinet, she handed Cort three holotapes. This will explain more of it, and I suppose these are really yours now anyway. Project Purity died with your mother, and I'm sorry, but nothing will bring either one of them back."

"Well let me tell you something, Doctor Li. You can't miss what you never had." Cort left the lab, chased by the lie she knew her words to be.

* * *

**Charon** had spent the hour or so while Cort was gone repairing their weapons and armour, having opted to remain in the room. He looked up from the cracked ablative panel he was in the middle of replacing when she came back in through the door, shuffling through a handful of holotapes. "How'd it go?"

"Good news and bad news. Found out where Dad went next. Found out that where Dad went next is the Goddamned Jefferson Memorial." She crawled onto the bed and leaned comfortably against him, pushing one of the tiny tapes into a slot on her Pip-Boy after pulling the cover loose.

"Colour me fucking shocked. When do you want to head out?"

"After we've visited the merchants and I've asked around some more for Moira, it won't take long and it'll be easier in the dark. I've already found out some stuff, and got another job..." she trailed off as a pleasant male voice started pouring out of the Pip-Boy's speaker.

"_Well, there's no more mystery behind Catherine's health problems. The news of her pregnancy has lifted the spirits of everyone here, and given us a renewed interest in making the purifier work. We now have a future generation to provide for..._"

Cort replaced the tape instantly with the next two as they ended, and when each had finished playing replayed the recordings from the files now stored on the Pip-Boy in order. Pulling up another recording Charon hadn't heard before, she talked conversationally over it. "My middle name is Catherine, you know. He doesn't sound any different. You think that he would sound different back then, but he doesn't. He sounds like him."

_"...an adult now. You're ready to be on your own. Maybe someday things will change and we can see each other again. I can't tell you why I left or where I'm going. I don't want you to follow me. God knows life in the Vault isn't perfect, but at least you'll be safe. Just knowing that will be enough to keep me going."_

_"Don't mean to rush you, Doc, but I'd feel better if we got this over with."_

_"Okay. Go ahead. Goodbye. I love you._"

After a long silent moment, Cort stood up and shoved the tapes deeply into the bottom of her pack, then started calmly clipping her armour into place. "Let's go finish what we need to do and get to the Jefferson." Charon slowly started moving again while keeping a careful eye on her, replacing the last damaged panel he was still holding and getting his own belongings together as she put Dogmeat's armour back on. "The job I got was from this creepy little bugger who's looking for an escaped android, can you believe it? They want to reprogram him for running away. Bastards. Whenever I manage to find him, I'll have to help him." Standing patiently by the door until he was ready, Cort then strode out of the room and into the rest of the ship.

* * *

**Charon** stood apprehensively behind Cort as she happily dickered at the counter of Flak N' Shrapnel's, the weapon merchants in the Rivet City Marketplace and their last stop before leaving. She had efficiently wandered through the entire carrier, politely talking with everyone and picking up a couple holotapes related to the insane android business she had mentioned earlier while investigating the history of the city for Moira. The ghoul had been twitchy ever since Cort had played through the recordings of her father without reacting in any substantial way. This was something again outside of her expected reactions to things, and he had a bad feeling that it meant there were going to be unpredictable consequences as a result. In point of fact, Charon felt like he was following an ambulatory powder keg around. Starting a little when he heard her laugh(thankfully not the alarming type, although he supposed that would have relieved the tension that was slowly driving him crazy), he watched her wave to the merchants and come over, shoving the bag of caps back into her pack. She handed him a combat helmet and a large amount of ammunition a moment later.

"There, now you've got one too. Had the stuff to repair mine a few times over as well, so I bought it up. And look! A silenced N99 10mm pistol. Am I ever going to have _fun_ with this thing. I got the last of their Stimpaks too, so that's everything we need resupplied. They even had a _buttload _of .44 shells." Cort patted the pistol where it was holstered on her left hip and then turned towards the exit, repeater in hand. Charon resignedly slapped on his new helmet and followed, trading a glance with the dog as he did.

They made it to the door of the Jefferson Memorial with a limited amount of effort, most of the mutants patrolling the outside having been killed on their way down to Rivet City. Slipping inside, Cort had exchanged her repeater for the new pistol and used it to devastating effect, even considering its somewhat reduced impact. Charon brought up the rear with his shotgun and grenades once their cover had been blown, still keeping a weather eye on Cort. The only change in her calm demeanor came when she spotted another holotape, quickly snatching each one up with an avid look on her face and pushing them deep into her pack before moving farther into the Memorial. Even when one of them was shot her attitude didn't change, although she treated them and herself with the same ruthless efficiency she normally had for such things.

The entire building was a maze of pipes and computer equipment, obviously co-opted by the scientists two decades before, most of it dust covered and non-functional. The only exception was the machinery in the rotunda surrounding a sluggishly moving, glassed in column of water, and even those were nearly dormant. After finally clearing out the lower levels they returned to a small living area, Charon quickly venturing upstairs for a moment to firmly barricade all the doors and lay a series of hidden frag mines in different positions. Cort was already playing through the recordings by the time he returned, armour and pack discarded on the floor next to the bed she was sitting on.

"If I'm understanding all this correctly, they were trying to create purified water on a massive scale. Makes sense with the location." Charon removed his own armour and then sat down next to her as she hiccuped softly, watching her fish randomly into her pack for another holotape to insert into the Pip-Boy. "I've gone through almost all of them. He left from here to go back into another Vault to get a piece of tech, somewhere to the west of Evergreen Mills under a garage." She looked up at him bleakly, her voice starting to crack. "I think I know what one it is, Charon. The map markers he left behind line up almost exactly. Oh Jesus, I was _there_. The first fucking few weeks out here, I passed it doing guard duty for Crow. I was right fucking _there_." Turning back to the pile of tapes in her lap, she inserted one of the few remaining.

"_Well, here we are again. Project Purity and me. It's been close to twenty years since my last entry, as I left all of this behind to make a life for my daughter. We spent that time in Vault 101, tucked away from the rest of the world. It wasn't perfect, but it was safe, and that's all I could have hoped for. Now, my daughter is a grown woman. Beautiful, intelligent, confident. Just like her mother. And as hard as it was to admit it, she doesn't need her daddy anymore._" Cort sighed, delicately removed the tape from the slot and placed them all back into her pack, then laid down on the bed and went completely and utterly to pieces.


	38. Crashing Down

**Watching** his employer fall apart for the second time in less than a week, Charon was firmly considering the prospect of shooting James in the kneecaps on sight when he met him. Having gone through a bout of Cort's crying previously he now had a general idea of how to deal with it, but was temporarily stalled by the fact that the fit she was having now seemed to be different and much, much worse. She was sobbing like before, but this time had curled almost completely in on herself and was doing it in near total silence, aside from shuddering hard enough to wrack her entire frame with it. Alarmingly, she was also ignoring the dog's efforts to get her attention, tucking her head in further when he tried to lick her face. Whining, Dogmeat turned to paw at him. Charon reached over, and attempting to get a hand under her arms like before, spoke.

"Cort."

"FUCK OFF!" Both the ghoul and dog winced at the sudden volume that poured out of her and then vanished just as quickly, turning back into her silent shaking. Trying to pick her up once more resulted in exactly the same response, only angrier and more high pitched. Charon scowled, confused for the moment. She had practically throttled him the last time after barely touching her. If she wouldn't uncurl, she couldn't latch on like before, and he wouldn't be able to fix the problem. He turned to Dogmeat when he was pawed at again and watched the dog, who was pushing his paws against the bed next to Cort and then backing up, repeating the motion over and over while looking at him patiently.

Furrowing his brow even further, he stared at the animal until something clicked. _Push. Wait. No. Pull. I can do that._ Sprawling across the back of the bed, Charon quickly wrapped an arm around Cort's waist and yanked her against himself, Dogmeat jumping up immediately into the vacated space and laying down in front of her. Nearly losing hold when she suddenly shrieked and fishtailed off of his chest, Charon neatly moved his hand from beneath her side to the shoulder pressed against the bed, firmly pinning her torso in place next to his much larger one. Satisfied with his solution after Cort stopped jerking around and started to wail instead, he settled down and waited for the situation to resolve itself like before, directing his thoughts back to the girl's father.

Anything that could reduce his employer to a gibbering mess for hours on end would have to be dealt with, for her safety and ability to efficiently function. While what he was doing now worked, the ghoul couldn't guarantee it would always happen in a location he could adequately defend from outside intrusion. Shooting James would most likely _not_ be a viable option, and he wasn't sure what would be; hopefully being reunited with him would cause Cort to self correct automatically. If it didn't, he would have to think of something else when they came to it. Either way, he would not allow her to remain compromised.

Charon had no idea why her father had left her behind in the first place. _Safe in the Vault my ass. How the hell can you keep someone safe if you're not the flying fuck around to make sure. Sloppy fucking work._ Snorting, he absently squeezed Cort's shoulder. Even as batshit as she was, clearly she was capable enough to thrive out here, and might not be suffering from her current instabilities if she hadn't been thrust into the Capital Wasteland with zero guidance. That deficiency he could help remedy by teaching her his own skills, and was doing so quite successfully in his opinion.

He also took a moment to be satisfied with himself for adapting to her odd requirements. It honestly wasn't that bad aside from distressing him on a newer, personal level he wasn't quite sure what to make of yet. Definitely easier than shooting the fuck out of shit now that he was used to it, and the kid was pleasantly warm against him. Even younger ghouls like he was ran a few degrees colder than normal, the ferals being completely devoid of internal body heat, so to him Cort felt comfortably like a small soft radiator.

Unwanted memories pertaining to his condition surfacing and getting confused with other less well-formed thoughts, Charon violently shoved all of them out of his mind and redirected his attention back to his employer. At some point during his musings Cort had settled into quiet intermittent sounds, one smooth hand buried in the dog's ruff and the other wrapped around his own ruined wrist. He decided to try speaking to her again.

"Cort?" Coming back out of herself, Cort snuffled heavily before replying, her voice sounding hollow and swollen at the same time.

"I thought I told you to fuck off, Charon."

"Yeah and I did. I fucked off to right here."

"You've figured out certain operational loopholes in your contract, haven't you."

"How _could_ you tell. So what's next?"

Cort thought for a moment, processing. "I should've come here sooner. We'll leave in the morning for the garage. I know the roads, and once we get back to Farragut West it won't take long, it's practically a straight shot through and we should have enough supplies. Screw making any stops on the way this time. I'm fucking done with the detours until I find my Dad." Pausing for another snuffle, Cort fell silent for a few minutes. "Tired."

"Well then go the fuck to sleep, idiot." Pulling Dogmeat closer Cort leaned back against the ghoul and yawned, then buried her face in the dog's neck, who rested his head next to hers.

"Okay."

* * *

**Cort** was out of the Jefferson Memorial less than a half hour after waking up, pausing only for Charon to recollect the mines he had set the previous evening before ripping the doors open. Swimming over the Potomac again, they didn't stop outside of the standard firefights until it was fully dark and the ghoul convinced Cort that at the very least, the _dog_ had to fucking sleep and eat if not her. Travelling without a pack Brahmin had proven to be almost ludicrously faster and the party had made it as far as Springvale, Cort choosing to bunk down in Silver's old hideout instead of dealing with the distraction of going back into Megaton.

She now sat rocking back and forth against a half-rotted cabinet, watching Charon and Dogmeat sleep in the dusty moonlight. She had insisted on sitting first watch, too wound up in her thoughts to even lay down. _Once I find Dad I'll go back and apologize to Gob for not taking his letter to Carol right away. It'll all be fine when I find him at Vault 112. Dad will know what to do to get Gob out, and fix everything else. He'll fix me_. She resisted the urge to replay through her recordings again, focusing instead on her breathing and the wind outside the house. After watching the pale light make it halfway up the ancient and peeling wall across from her, she shook Charon awake and wordlessly collapsed onto the floor, falling asleep after he dragged her next to where he sat.

The next morning after waking up and being practically forced by the ghoul to eat something, Cort headed back out into the shattered landscape, her companions trailing behind. Breaking off the main caravan route towards evening, they became increasingly bogged down with more and more fighting, entering areas where the hostile creatures had not been cleared out by regular travel. After being forced to detour farther around Evergreen Mills than she had wanted to initially, Cort was getting increasingly frustrated.

"We're going in completely the wrong direction now, _fuck_." She was looking far into the distance from where they had taken cover in a outcropping covered in dead bushes, a large party of raiders moving through where she had initially wanted to go.

Charon looked over to her briefly before going back to scanning the landscape. "I thought you traded with this particular faction of shitheads before."

"_Crow_ traded with them, I was along for the ride. Diplomatic merchant immunity. Since I'm not working drag on a caravan anymore, they'd split me open just like all the other ones we've run into." She frowned, rapidly flipping through the screens on her Pip-Boy. "We're going to have to go farther south before we hook back again. We should probably stay here for the night though, shouldn't we." Cort mentally begged for him to say 'no, let's keep going', not really surprised when he affirmatively snarled back at her.

"Fuck yes, you shithead, unless you want to run into those fucking assholes in the dark, or something even better like a shitting Giant Radscorpion. They're _really_ easy to see at night and all, being totally fucking _black_."

Cort slumped farther into cover and hugged Dogmeat to her. "Fine. Just tell me when it's safe for you to sleep and I'll take first watch again." Ignoring Charon's swearing, she went back to her Pip-Boy. They could head south to the VAPL-84 Power Station and find one of the old main arteries next to it, which would connect to the road heading past Smith Casey's Garage. Most of the asphalt remained and it would be faster travelling than going overland, which wasn't an option now anyway. She swore at herself, thinking back to her time with Crow. He had pointed the structure out to her after swinging the long way around Evergreen Mills, adding it to her collection of map markers. Cort had almost not bothered doing so, not seeing the point of knowing where an abandoned garage was and only putting it in out of a compulsive need to collect any information she could get out here. Halfheartedly re-plotting routes and not getting any shorter results, she nodded off leaning against a rock, aching inside and out.

* * *

**She** woke up to Charon shoving an open can of Pork N' Beans and a bottle of water into her hands, the sun coming up into the pale sky behind him. Cort looked at him, incredulous. "Wha...you didn't wake me up!"

"No, I did not. You were fucking exhausted."

"I _told_ you to tell me when it was time for me to take watch. You've been up all fucking night now!" Angrily eating after he had pointed to her hands, she stared at the ghoul reproachfully.

"No, you told me to tell you when it was safe for me to sleep, and I decided it wasn't. I spent fifty fucking years napping in spare minutes, so I can handle one fucking all-nighter, especially with_ you_ ready to drop the fuck dead last night." He turned back to scanning the surrounding area. "There's nothing moving out there now, so we can head out whenever you finish eating, I've had mine and fed the dog already."

Wiping an arm across her face, Cort blearily creaked to her feet, wincing at the sore spots her armour had dug into while she slept in it on the uneven ground. She slung her pack and helmet on then staggered through the bushes, checking her Pip-Boy for their new bearing. "We'll go south until we hit the main road, look for a power station just past it. Then we can follow the old road until we get to one heading North."

They found what Cort had been looking for before noon, coming down to investigate the station for anything useful after hearing gunfire, fights generally meaning there was something decent for them to mop up afterward with little personal effort. What they found was several dead raiders and a dying Yao Guai. Cort raised her repeater and after putting the mutant bear out of its misery, silently started looking through the corpses with Charon. Dogmeat walked around the perimeter, sniffing into the wind and pacing faster and faster. He stopped a moment later, both the girl and the ghoul snapping their heads around when a guttural snarl started spilling out of him.

Charon spun towards where the dog was facing, cocking his shotgun. "Fuck. Oh what the fuck now. It better not be another fucking Yao Guai. I fucking _hate_ Yao Guai."

Cort pulled her repeater up and started walking towards her dog. "But why, they're just so damned cuddly. It's that or another Radscorpion, the way he's starting to go. Probably attracted by the noise like we were." She was getting the feeling it was maybe a few of the giant bugs considering the way Dogmeat was starting to slaver. Looking closer at him for a moment, she got a sneaking suspicion that the dog was starting to actually panic before a huffing cough caught her attention. Cort was tumbling across the ground a moment later, the skin on her right leg in ribbons from where what looked like an over-sized lizard had slashed at it. Fetching up against a rock, she stared wild-eyed at it. "What the fuck is that? Charon, what the_ fuck is THAT?_"

The ghoul didn't look at her, firing rapidly on the giant monstrosity. "Deathclaw! For fuck's sakes Cort, get up, get up now!" Dogmeat was barking wildly from one side, dashing in to bite at a tough leg before dancing away again, yelping as a clawed hand clipped his side.

"DOGMEAT RUN!" Cort screamed as she scrambled to her feet and started unloading her rifle into the nightmare barreling towards the now retreating dog, peppering the side of its body with .44s.

"No, aim for the legs, the fuckers can't jump if you go for their fucking _legs_!" He advanced and aimed his next blasts towards the lizard's powerful back limbs, yelling again a moment later. "Mutt, I'm out!" Dogmeat tore towards the ghoul, Charon digging his hand into one of the ammo pouches on the dog's side as Cort readjusted her aim and continued firing to draw its attention away from the other two, the repeater's singing voice clicking dry a moment later.

"Hey you fucker! Come get me instead, come get _me_!" She was yanking her assault rifle free when the monstrosity made a final coughing leap towards her, its legs finally giving out when it landed. Charon looked up at Cort's shriek to see her flying backwards through the air until she slammed into a large jagged boulder, pushed by a backhanded swing from the Deathclaw. Her voice cut off instantly as her body made a sickening wet crunch against the stone, Charon feeling something in him snap along with the sound.

"_CORT_!" She didn't turn her head or speak back to him, only stared sightlessly at the sky, her upper body making weak, mechanical spasms. Feeling a red haze descending over himself, Charon slammed the reloaded drum back into his shotgun and bolted towards the crippled Deathclaw, Dogmeat roaring beside him as he dug his boots into the earth, voice breaking. "You fucking sonofabitch, you broke her back! _You broke her FUCKING BACK_!" He had time to unload one shot before they both crashed into it, the dog ducking under to slash the thing's belly open when it reached up to tear at Charon. Snarling back at the giant lizard while it bellowed at the dog literally digging his way further inside, he fired again and again until the thing's head finally disintegrated and it collapsed, splattering the gaping holes in his front with brain matter and bits of skull. Dogmeat hauled himself out from underneath it a moment later and came over to Charon, looking like a furred charnel house. "Good mutt. Very good mutt." The dog whuffed and licked the side of his face, then spun and ran towards the girl.

Coughing weakly and dropping his shotgun the ghoul dragged himself up to a sitting position, one arm wrapped around his oozing torso as he looked back for Cort. She hadn't moved in the last few seconds it had taken them to finish fighting, still only making the same pathetic little jerks as the life went out of her, legs unmoving. "Cort. _No_, Cort." Charon started pulling himself hard towards her, the dog already licking at her face as the gore pooling out of his fur mixed with the red earth underneath her. If he got to the supplies in her pack in time she might live. If she lived and couldn't walk, he would carry her wherever she needed to go, _wanted_ him to go. And if she did die, Charon was determined to follow her. He would ignore his own wounds again, Cort being unable to order him not to, and under no circumstances would he cut his contract loose from her body. As far as he was concerned, Cort _was_ his contract.

Dogmeat he could tell to return to Megaton. Someone there would recognize him and take the animal in, the kids, or maybe the crazy woman who ran the supply store, although he had doubts about the animal listening to him instead of Cort once she was gone. Pushing that thought out of his mind, Charon hauled himself over the last few feet, still saying her name over and over in a toneless litany. He had a burst of hope when the dog nudged her head to the side and her eyes seemed to focus on him. He was reaching out to grab her arm, convinced that it wasn't that bad if she could just see him, when Cort gave a final jagged gasp outward and stopped moving.

"_NO!_"Collapsing onto his back Charon screamed, gave up entirely to the agony settling into his body and mind, and passed out.

* * *

_Hoshit, what's going to happen next. How was that for you, good? Want it to keep going? Thanks so much for the new reviews, some of you have been busy!_


	39. Crawling Through

_**Come**__ on. Come on, you can do it diaphragm. Good little diaphragm. WORK, you flat Christing little FUCKER! _ Finally dragging in a massive whooping bellow of air, Cort coughed on her exhale and nearly vomited. _Shit, I haven't had the air knocked out of me like this since Wally accidentally hit me in the chest with a fucking baseball bat. Thank God my pack took most it. Fuck this sucks, I don't even want to _try_ moving my leg yet._ Blinking to get the stars out of her eyes and waiting for her hearing to clear, she dragged herself up, pushing Dogmeat's wet head gently away. "Momma loves you very much but she has eaten enough slobber, and definitely enough of whatever's all _over_ you, oh my Gag." Laughing at her lousy pun, she turned to look for Charon. "Did we get it? We got it right, or I'd be dead. Charon? _Charon_!"

The ghoul was lying a few feet from her, insensible and bleeding. Scrambling over to him, her slashed leg throbbing in complaint, Cort lifted the arm crossed over his belly after checking for his pulse and came close to throwing up again. His front was a gore-ridden mess, made of himself and parts of the Deathclaw buried in the garish slashes running from his chest down to one hip. Cort ran her bloody hands through her hair and sobbed. "Oh God Charon, I can see your guts. What did you do, try to hug the fucking thing?"

Deciding for the moment that being unconscious was a blessing for him she flailed her pack off, digging to her medical supplies, hearing the unholy mess they were in grind around before she found it. Landing heavily on her pack earlier had smashed nearly everything to pieces, broken glass and plastic everywhere, most of the Stimpaks gone and the glowing water soaked into the spare clothing its bottles had been protectively wrapped in. Compounding the loss, one of the packs of Rad Away had burst and rendered what had settled into the cloth completely useless, saturating through all of it.

Violently dumping everything out on the cracked earth, she found three remaining Stimpaks, two Med-X, a blood pack and a bottle each of dirty and purified water, plus a pile of currently useless Rad Away and Rad-X. Reaching carefully under Charon, she dug through the contents of his pack and added the same amount of water over again. Medicine being her particular specialty, Cort had started carrying all of the medical supplies, and at the moment she was regretting that choice bad enough to be hurt by it. _Not hurt as bad as he is. Oh fuck, fuck what do I do first. Pain meds, then clean the junk out._ Pausing to take a look at her own leg before proceeding, she decided while cripplingly painful it wasn't a priority. She pushed the two syringes of Med-X into the ghoul, then carefully stripped his armour from him and tore the shredded remains of his shirt off, looking up to her other companion as she did it. Pulling her combat knife out, she sawed through his belt and cut through the waistband of his pants to expose the long rents running down his hip as she spoke to the dog.

"Dogmeat, are you okay? I know you got hit too." The dog whuffed at her and shook himself, spraying clotting blood everywhere. "Okay, so fine at least for now then." Cort returned immediately to Charon, slicing his pack free and then rapidly and delicately plucking out the offal tainting his wounds, washing them clean when she was finished. The edges of the torn tissue knit slightly with the weak radiation from the dirty water, but not nearly enough to repair him. Quickly patting him all over to see if there was something she was missing and not finding anything, she grabbed a Stimpak in each hand and plunged them into either side of his ribs, flinging herself out of the way when he spasmed up and screamed.

"Oh _fuck no_, _Cort, no_!" Cort moved back and hovered over him, worry and apology painted on her face. She pushed down with both hands on his chest when he jerked again at the sight of her, chalky eyes wide and staring. She traced her fingers over the now smaller but still gaping wounds in his belly as blood continuing to dribble down his side.

"No, don't move, don't, you'll tear yourself up again. I'm sorry, I'm _so_ sorry, there wasn't enough Med-X left and I'm sorry, it's my fault that hurt so much. There's only one more shot to go and then I can go find something irradiated for us both." Turning to pick up the last Stimpak, she frowned when he grabbed her wrist and caused it to skitter out of her grasp and across the ground. "I told you to stay still, damnit. There's only one of those left."

"Cort. You're alive." She patted his hand, then gently peeled his fingers loose and put his arm down at his side.

"I don't think it would hurt this damn much if I was dead, so yes, I'm alive. I just got the wind knocked out of me, that's all." Lurching up, Cort tried walking towards where the Stimpak had gone and fell heavily onto her elbows, coughing and spitting in the resulting dust that puffed up. _Okay, and maybe a really fucked up leg. I can deal with that, I just need to make sure he'll last long enough for me to find something to bring back. Please God, make him last long enough_. Pushing against the dirt, she crawled over and retrieved the item, the offending limb dragging behind her. Moving to inject Charon, she was forced to pause again when he reached up to recapture her wrist. "Look, you need to quit that. I know it hurts but you need it."

"No. You use it. Your leg is crippled." Cort stared at him incredulously.

"So what else is fucking new? Your guts are _winking at me_."

"It won't work as well on me as you, and you know it." He turned his head and winced. "What happened to the irradiated water and all the rest of that shit?"

"Everything else smashed when my pack hit the rock with me on top of it. This is all that's left aside from a shitload of fucking Rad Away and you're taking it. I can still crawl, you can't even fucking move and there's no way I'm strong enough to drag you the whole way, you fucking giant. First rule of triage, you're screwed up more, you get the goods." She looked up for a moment, searching for something, and spoke her next words absently. "Besides, once I find something irradiated, I can run back."

Charon frowned up at her. She wasn't making sense. Making herself even sicker for him was not a viable option, and certainly wouldn't make her faster; he wasn't going to watch her die again. He definitely wasn't going to lie here crippled and thinking about her dying out there alone trying to save him.

He stared over her shoulder, eyes widening as he released her wrist, holding his hand open and ready. "What, what, _what is it_!" Cort whipped her head around, then screeched when Charon grabbed the Stimpak from her and sank it into her thigh before collapsing again. "You fucking _bastard_!" Rounding back to him, she pulled the depleted syringe out of herself and flung it away, the flesh on her leg knitting partially together as the movements he had made pulled his own apart. "What did I just tell you?"

"You've got a better chance at survival. No chance of moving me. Now grab the rest of your shit and go. There'll be more scavengers eventually." The ghoul closed his eyes again. The girl would be safer once she left, and he was incredibly tired.

"Oh, I'll fucking go all right, and I suppose it's just as well I can move faster now since _someone_ flushed the extra time I could've given them down the fucking _toilet_." Cort sobbed and ran her hands through her hair again, flaring it into a crest and adding Charon's blood to her own. _What am I going to do, what, what. I don't have time now to fucking puddle hunt. Something irradiated, something radioactive... _Eyes latching onto a derelict car and truck next to the power station, she brightened. _That'll work, once it blows, that'll work fast, but too close._

Pushing herself to her feet, she ripped her battered armour off and threw it to the side, the ghoul blearily opening his eyes again at the sound. "What are you doing. Need that." Cort picked up her repeater and started reloading it from the shells scattered on the ground.

"For what I'm doing, no I don't. I'll be quicker with it off, and trust me I won't need it on the way back. Any fuckers out there won't be able to make a Goddamned dent in me once I'm done and I _dare_ them to fucking try. Dogmeat, watch Charon." The dog trotted over from where he had been trying to clean his fur and stood attentively next to the figure on the ground as Cort grabbed the remaining blood pack and inserted the needle into the ghoul's arm. Absently holding it down in front of her, Dogmeat opened his mouth and carefully held onto it when she let go. "Good boy, Momma's _best_. Keep it high unless something comes, and then you rip whatever it is the _fuck_ up." She smiled darkly when he snarled through the sides of his mouth, incongruously wagging his tail at the same time.

Charon was finding it harder and harder to focus on Cort, but it didn't matter. Nothing seemed to matter to him anymore except going to sleep after making sure she was leaving, and to somewhere safe. "Where you going."

"Where am I going? I'm going to rapidly turn myself into a walking _particle farm_ since your selfless fucking act means I need to get _creative!_" She stomped her foot at this last effusion, then bellowed when she jarred her wounded leg. "_Why is it always the fucking LEG_! Charon, stay still and...Charon? Oh _fuck_." Dropping onto her belly next to him, she pushed her fingers against his neck until she found his pulse again, this time thready and weak. She didn't have much time left, even with the blood pack.

Getting up and hitching rapidly back to the main road, she found another car still containing its fusion reactor. Shouldering her repeater, Cort fired into the vehicle and then ducked behind an outcropping, waiting for it to explode. Once the resulting shrapnel stopped whizzing dangerously around her, she moved as close as she could to it, checking the rad level on her Pip-Boy. It petered out a few seconds later. "No, no, _nonono_!" Sobbing, she looked around for another vehicle, spotting a truck farther down the torn road. "Okay so exploding won't work. I'll just open it. I can open it, of _course_ I can."

Making her way up to the truck she pulled at the edges of its reactor hatch, then scrambled around to the cab when it refused to budge, slithering into the rotted seats. "Where is it, where is it, where the FUCK is it." Digging around in the shimmering heat and finally seizing the crowbar she had been searching for with a triumphant snarl, Cort dropped back to the road, shrieking when she landed badly. After pulling herself up and socking the crowbar into place, she screamed in tandem with the rusted metal, slowly moving it up as she flung herself bodily against the tool. "Move you motherfucker, move!" When the edge of the hatch finally popped free, Cort felt a wave of radiation hit her and leaned into it greedily, listening to the clicking on her left wrist climb into a constant squeal. Rapidly backing up when she started to feel dizzy, her leg moving easily again, she rechecked her Pip-Boy and paled at what she saw.

"958 Rads, oh _God_ that was close. That's enough. It has to be, I can't go higher than that." Grabbing up her repeater, Cort tore back towards where she had left Charon and Dogmeat, feet flying over the ground as fast as she could go, skidding to a halt next to them a minute later. She took the empty blood back away from the dog and removed the needle from the ghoul's limp arm, then slid under him, displacing his pack and shoving it behind her. Arms and shoulders rippling, Cort slowly dragged him into her and placed both legs on either side of his ruined torso, wrapping her arms around his neck and draping them over his chest. After leaning into the remains of Charon's pack she waved the dog away. "Dogmeat, you go over there and keep a lookout now. Momma's clicking hot." Watching the dog move back, Cort rested Charon's face against the side of her neck and prayed.

* * *

_I know, I know, I'm evil. Cliffhanger before I went partying for the weekend, pure pure evil. Thanks for the fantastic reviews on it, I wasn't sure how it turned out. :)  
_


	40. Climbing Up

_Thanks so much for the new reviews and favs, you guys are awesome! I've had a lot of time to write this weekend so remember to check and make sure you haven't skipped a chapter._

* * *

**Charon** was dreaming. They weren't linear dreams like he normally had, only random images, thoughts and sounds strung together in various orders fading in and out of the darkness. He would have pushed them away, looking for quiet, but Cort kept surfacing and speaking to him through all of them, and he was supposed to follow her orders.

'_Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence_.' Her in the 9th Circle, barefoot and detested, then bare and cutting herself open for him. '_He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler_.' His ghoulification, the radiation burning him up inside, then her sleeping next to his chest, soothing warmth. '_Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day_.' Never touching or getting close, then her getting closer, touching him. '_Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday_.' An employer trying to kill him, leaving him a bleeding pile in the dust. Crawling through the dust to die next to her. '_A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee_.' Holding her against him when she hurt. Hurting, and oh fuck, he hurt so _much_, and Cort...Cort was holding him.

"Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked."

Charon slowly opened his eyes, focusing on the two pale forearms draped over his bare chest, one of them partially covered by a dusty Pip-Boy. Both ended in slender, terminally _filthy _hands caked in blood and rust up to the wrists, their perfect fingers splayed on his patchy skin and exposed muscle. Two equally dirty knees were propped up on either side. She had somehow gotten herself underneath him in something that looked like a failed piggyback maneuver, his arms on either side of her thighs. He closed his eyes again and groaned, everything too bright with the sun beating down.

"Charon?" Hot breath and a familiar, hopeful voice next to where his left ear used to be. Taking in as deep a breath of his own as he could manage, the ghoul opened his eyes and blinked rapidly, trying to clear his head. It was getting easier, something nearby was giving radiation off at a comfortably high level, baking into him from nearly every direction. He squinted for a moment. The Pip-Boy's Geiger counter was turned off. He would have to warn her.

"Something's irradiated." The hands bunched into fists, then relaxed again.

"I know, I told you I'd bring it back for you."

"You need to get away from it." He tried to push himself up, failing miserably and resting his head back against her warm neck when she pulled down on his chest.

"It's fine, Charon. It won't hurt me, promise." Too tired to object and believing her anyway, he laid quietly and let the radiation sink into his damaged body, waiting for the jumble of events in his head to sort themselves out. Most recently there had been the Deathclaw, and Cort dying...no, not dying. She was here.

"You're not dead."

"No, I'm not. We went over this already, remember?"

"I told you to leave me."

"And just who precisely holds the fucking contract in our relationship? Oh wait, listen! I think the implant in my chest is saying it's _me_." Cort wrapped herself tighter around him. "You don't tell me what I can and can't do."

Head clearing even further, something else percolated through to Charon while the girl shifted against him; namely how blissfully hot she was wherever she was making contact with his body. If he had thought Cort felt like a radiator before, now she was like being next to a living blast furnace. He started trying to push himself around to face her, panicking. "Oh _fuck_, the radiation's coming from _you_, fuck, get it out! Where's the shitting Rad Away, you said there was more." Cort locked her hands around her wrists and tucked in her knees as he struggled.

"And I said it wouldn't fucking hurt me, so knock it off and stay fucking _still_."

"No, _fuck_ no, you have to-" He cut off abruptly when Cort bellowed in his ear.

"_Charon_! _What_ did I instruct you to do."

"Stay still." Latching onto the order, he calmed down and waited for the next one.

"Good. Now watch me, it's time for show and tell." Slowly letting go, Cort reached into her left boot and pulled out her combat knife, bringing it up in front of him as he cautiously kept his eyes on it. "Now mind me like I said and stay still, I don't need to accidentally stab you or something and have to start all this shit over again." Fighting with a massive impulse to grab her hands when she started slicing her right arm open, lacing new cuts over similar scar tissue, he stared wide-eyed as the slashes closed up almost instantly, the small amount of escaped blood running down and off her elbow. Shoving the knife back into its sheath after wiping it off on her pant leg, she placed her hands back on top of his chest and sighed. "See? No worries."

Charon was convinced he had just hallucinated. Radiation did _not_ heal smoothskins, what it _did_ do was damage the living hell out of them until it was removed. He managed to croak out a single word, staring at the new silvery lines on Cort's arm. "What."

"Radiation heals me just like a ghoul. The only difference is I don't flush it out afterward, which is damned lucky for you." His next question hurt her like hell.

"What are you?" Cort winced and wrung her hands together, resisting the urge to let go and turn around to hide herself from him entirely.

"I'm slightly ...mutated, that's all. It happened right after I came out of the Vault, one of Moria's bright ideas that unsurprisingly didn't turn out like she planned. Once I'm over 400 Rads, I start regenerating damaged flesh. I can't go over 1,000 without frying though, just like everybody else." She shook her head and sighed. "Why do you think I kept staying irradiated while we were fighting, and accidentally drinking all that glowing water?"

"I just thought you were fucking stunned." Feeling closer to normal and not quite as weak, he plucked her hands off his chest and sat up, slowly scooting backwards while Cort moved to the side and pulled her knees up under her chin. "Why didn't you tell me?" She folded her hands in front of her legs and avoided looking at him.

"Moira told me not to tell anyone. She was worried people would blow my brains out or try using me as a lab animal if the wrong person found out what I could do, so I just hid it from everyone. You're the only one outside of her, Dogmeat and Barrows that knows now, I don't even think he told Nurse Graves." Looking for something to distract herself with, she picked up several cans and boxes of food scattered around her emptied pack and piled them in front of Charon. "Here. You're going to be practically starving in a minute, if you aren't already." The ghoul picked up the closest item and broke it open. He _was_ getting hungry.

"So how the fuck did _Barrows_ find out, if you weren't telling anyone?"

"I let him cut pieces out of me to use for his and Grave's research."

"_WHAT_?" Clumsily making a mid-air retrieval of the can of Cram that had tumbled out of his hands, Cort held it back out to him, shaking it gently when he didn't take it immediately. He snatched it away from her as she scowled back at him, furious at the discovery that someone had mutilated her and he hadn't been around to stop it. "Why would you let someone fucking _do _that?"

"Why are you so pissed off? You didn't even know me then, and I _offered_ to do it because he was good to me. Besides, I can and _did_ grow it all back. That's why I know you should eat. Now." Watching him do as she instructed and noticing a wince when he leaned too far forward after one of the boxes, she shuffled back over and pressed against his side. "Better?"

"...Yes." After he had finished eating and sat staring inquisitively at her for a moment, Cort rolled her eyes and crawled into his lap, Charon immediately wrapping his arms tightly around her waist when she had settled.

"I'm not a fucking hot water bottle, you know. No, you twit, _don't_ let go of me. It's alright, I know it feels good to you." _Feels pretty good to me too right now_. Resting her head on his chest as he returned to hugging her, she watched Dogmeat off in the distance, patrolling around in a wide looping circle. Once Charon was completely back together, she would have to flush herself out and take a closer look at the dog. He was moving fine, but if there were any gashes in him she would now have to resort to using stitches, and wanted to do that while the sun was still high in the sky. For now, it was nice to just lean against the big ghoul and take a moment to thoroughly decompress from everything they had just gone through. After sitting together for a long while, Cort reached down to poke around his midsection, looking for any remaining damaged flesh.

Would you fucking _stop_ that?" Charon started squirming and looked distinctly uncomfortable as she methodically pushed in around his bottom ribs.

No, I most certainly will not. Your viscera was saying howdy-do to the sunshine a few hours ago, and we're not moving until I'm one hundred percent sure you're okay." Flicking her hands down over his side towards the hip that had been injured, she froze with an incredulous look on her face when the ghoul let out out a strange, stifled bark at her touch. "Oh, you're _kidding_ me. No way."

"No way _what_?" Charon glowered at her, not liking the crazy grin breaking out on her face. Making another experimental poke, he gave off a noise that sounded suspiciously like a yipe and her grin widened even further.

"Hah ahaa, _this_." Cort darted her clever fingers in and started tickling everywhere she could reach as he frantically tried to grab the offending digits.

"What the fuck are you _doing_ to me?" Smiling wickedly every time she got him to produce one of his strange barks, she easily slipped her smooth hands out of his rough grasping ones and redoubled her assault.

"It's called being ticklish! Lots of people are, even me, you find out by doing what I'm doing now to...oh no. No no no. Don't you _dare_." Cort took one look at his face and bolted, getting almost out of the range of his much longer reach but not quite making it. Grabbing her by the calf, Charon dragged her back and started performing the torture she had just taught to him, making Cort laugh like a loon.

"Let's see how _you _like it, you little bast-!" He cut off abruptly as the girl got her own hands back to work, and both of them rolled across the dirt, arms flailing and looking for the advantage. Grabbing her by the Pip-Boy a minute later, Charon hoisted her left arm up and attacked her ribs.

Cort bunched up, tears running out of her as she squealed. "Stop it stop it _stoppit_! Help, oh God I need _help_!"

Both of them froze stiff a moment later when a click cut through the air.

"Now why don't you just let go of the little lady, rotbag, before I blow your shuffling brains out." Both of them turned around to face a scavenger in a heavy pack and long coat holding a cocked .32 pistol, which was loosely trained on Charon while he looked at Cort. "Don't you worry, looks like I was just in time. Don't even have his _own_ clothes all the way off yet."

Cort started up at him, open-mouthed, snapping it shut abruptly when Charon went to move in front of her. "No, you get behind _me_, you know why. _Now_." Looping an arm around Cort pushed back on the ghoul, who let out a quiet stream of profanities at her as he obeyed, then stood up in front of him and tried to make herself as big as possible. "I don't know what the hell you think you're doing or what you thought you saw, but he's not hurting me, so put the gun away." Watching the scavenger jerk the weapon down, she ducked to block it before he could fire, Charon reaching up to steady her.

Smiling and exposing missing teeth, the man shrugged and scratched the back of his head. "Now girlie, why don't you move so I can put down that giant mess behind you. Have to shoot them zombies in the head, you know."

"Why don't you go _pound sand_." Voice roughening, she reached back to grab the ghoul's hand where it still rested on her hip. The scavenger's smile turned into a sneer, his eyes narrowing.

"Like that is it? Disgusting girl, just disgusting. Far be it from me to criticize taking it where you can find it, and I'll find it with you before you go cold, but at least have the decency to find a corpse that ain't _rotten_. Now one last chance to move before I take you down, and maybe we can have some fun without you being dead first. What do you say?"

Smiling psychotically as Charon's hand tightened painfully on hers, she laughed. "You have _so_ entirely missed the mark with your observations here. And what do I say? Rip him up."

The scavenger turned around as a snarl started behind him. "Wha-"

Cort bellowed triumphantly. "_SIC 'EM, BOY_!"

Something that looked like it belonged in the very pits of Hell slammed into the scavenger, shining white teeth in a face clotted with blood slashing into the arms he threw up to protect himself, the pistol discharging into the air. Trying to grab at the monstrosity working its way up to his throat, his hands slipped away, filled with chunks of loose and sticky gore as Dogmeat dug his hind legs into the man's groin and kicked. Screaming, he had time to wonder if dogs could be ghouls before his face disappeared inside a red roaring maw.

Charon stood up next to Cort and roughly hauled her against him, smiling and snarling in counterpoint to the dog as he watched the animal shake his head back and forth, ripping up flaps of skin.

"Look, Charon! Dogmeat found us some supplies."

"_Good_ mutt."

* * *

**After** Charon retrieved his combat shotgun from where he had left it earlier and set himself up to keep watch, and she had taken enough Rad Away to clean herself out, Cort started sorting out everything scattered across the ground, Dogmeat helping her while she was still too nauseated to move very far. _I hate Rad Away. I hate it so much. Hatehatehate_. Finishing up with their damaged belongings, she stripped the pack from the scavenger, his clothing too destroyed to bother saving. "We've got more food, more Stimpaks, ammo, more purified and dirty water, new belt for you, oooh, just everything in here! Nice fat bag of caps too. Guy was a busy little bastard."

Yeah, well now he's a fucking _dead_ little bastard." Cort tilted her face down and smiled. The ghoul had walked over and unloaded a shot into what was left of the scavenger's head after collecting his shotgun, blowing it into a paste against the ground.

She sat down and spent the rest of the afternoon fixing up and cleaning out everything that needed it, occasionally eating something out of the food pile. Dogmeat had had only a few superficial lacerations, the extra ablative plates stored in his armour protecting him from the worst of the Deathclaw's swipe. By the start of the evening she had managed to repair all their armour and salvaged enough of their clothing for them to wear under it. With enough medical supplies(now split between all three of them, she grimly noted), food and water, Cort wasn't worried. _Those dumb Talon Company fuckers will pop up again like clockwork and give us all spares anyway._

Looking around, she noted the yellowing light and frowned. "Are you ready to get moving or do you want to stay here for the night?"

Charon snarled out from the rock he was perched on like a half-naked gargoyle. "I fucking _hate_ here. Here can crawl up my ass and fucking _choke_ on it."

"Okay, so that's a _no_, then. Come get your clothes changed, there's still lots of time before sunset. We can probably make it to the garage just after dark."

* * *

_For anyone curious, the beginning is an excerpt from Psalm 91, King James version, which is what they use in the game for Catherine's favourite Revelation quote._


	41. Breaking Out

**It** was more than a little after sunset when they finally made it to Smith Casey's Garage, having stayed as stealthy as possible on the way there to avoid any more insanity. Currently tucked behind a rotting old car sometime well after midnight, all three of them were looking towards a group of raiders slumped in front of the building.

"Jesus, these guys really _are_ everywhere out around here. What's that one wearing?" Cort pointed to the one with a large tank on her back.

"_That_ is a fucking flamer. You don't want to go anywhere near it, take it out from a distance. Otherwise you'll be fucking crisped."

"Will it blow up if I shoot it?" Charon blinked at her, looking blank for a moment before grinning darkly.

"Let's find out."

While the flamer tank did nothing more than vent gas after Cort shot it, the wrecked truck next to it blew up with a satisfying _'whoomp'_ that took out most of the raiders. The resulting chain reaction with other vehicles finished off the rest as she sat behind their shelter on the broken asphalt, tugging on Dogmeat's ears and giggling wearily while waiting for the fires to burn down. "Was that all of them?"

"Think so. At least I don't see anything fucking running around and screaming anymore. We're good to move now, last fire's going out."

Charon moved cautiously out of cover as Cort shoved back against the car and pushed herself up the side of it, yawning deeply before following after the ghoul. After another insanely crazy day she was unbelievably tired, weary, and on the verge of another collapse. If this was indeed the correct location of Vault 112, she would be either finding her father or having her hopes dashed to bits once again, with another unknown location to drag herself towards. Cort wasn't sure what she dreaded more, not finding James yet again, or facing him as the person she had been turning into. _I'm a genetic freak, I shot part of my own ear off trying to kill myself, ate part of a dead person, my pet dog slaughters people, and I cut myself open for a brainwashed ghoul mercenary. Oh, and I think I'm just a teeny tiny bit psychotic now!_ Choking back a handful of laughs into hiccups, she jogged to catch up to where Charon stood by the door to the garage, checking her Pip-Boy and telling him what she saw.

"There's stuff in there. Hostile."

"Fucking _wonderful_." Cort pulled out her silenced pistol as Charon opened the door and then kicked it wide, thankfully finding nothing more than molerats and radroaches to finish off. Dogmeat trotted across the room to one of the rodent's corpses once they were done and sat down to chew on it as the other two of them wandered around the interior looking through things, Cort happily bee-lining it for the flickering Nuka Cola machine in the corner as Charon went into the mechanical bay. He called out to her after a moment. "Cort."

Wandering blearily through to the adjacent room a second later, helmet in one hand and a partially consumed soda in the other, she walked over to where the ghoul was standing in one of the corners, absently noting the hollow noise her boots were making on the floor. "Hmm?"

"Turn your light on, I think I found something." Complying with his request, Cort flicked a switch and then held her arm up. There was a large power box on the wall with a breaker switch, which he was leaning towards. "Fucking thing's still humming." Brightening hopefully, she clenched her right hand tighter around the Nuka bottle and looked at him.

"Well, flick it then. Maybe it's got something to do with the stupid Vault." A moment later she was crashing into the ground with a yelp, arms held comically high as she prevented the cola from spilling while her head connected with the dirty concrete. "_Oowww_!" Looking up in time to see the retracting door panels she had been standing on recede entirely into the floor, Cort clutched the back of her head and then gently placed the bottle as far away from herself as she could reach. "Okay so that wasn't quite worth what this feels like."

"No shit, Sherlock." Charon came over and pulled her up, keeping an eye on the gaping hole now running the length of the room. Wobbling over to it, Cort peered down into a metal staircase that glowed softly with security lighting. Whistling to Dogmeat, she retrieved her helmet and started descending once they were all together.

"This looks like one of the Metro utility rooms." Turning to look at the ghoul as he blasted another molerat, she moved deeper into the area, finding a second staircase leading to a lower floor with a flanged security door. Jerking the handle and opening it, Cort walked through into another set of tunnels, her voice starting to break. "If this turns out to be filled with fucking train cars, I'm going to be so pissed off." She hitched to a stop after turning the last corner, staring. "_Not_ fucking train cars."

Towering at the end of the circular corridor was a dully gleaming Vault door, 112 printed on it in near pristine white paint. Breaking into a run, Cort sped towards the far end, skidding to a breathless halt in front of the door control panel as Charon came up behind her.

"Can you open that thing?" Cort ran her fingers over the buttons, snorting.

"If there's one thing I can open, it's Vault-Tec shit. I spent enough time being contained by it just to do it on fucking principle." Amber safety lights starting to flash as the klaxon sounded, she slapped her hands over her ears, muttering under her breath. "I hate this sound. This sound was the end of everything." The massive door pulled back with a rending squeal and she scrunched her eyes shut as well, waiting for the tell-tale clattering to stop and tell her the giant metal plug had come to a halt. Pulling out her pistol when it had finished, Cort moved cautiously into the clean, slightly familiar and entirely vacant entryway, then stopped and frowned worriedly. "This is wrong. If this was 101 there would be at least one security guard here to prevent us from tampering with the door, not that it actually worked. The noise _definitely_ should have drawn someone, and double-time."

Moving to a door on the left after triggering the main Vault one to close, she levered it open and walked slowly down the corridor, opening a similar door before stopping dead. "What? What the hell is the mainframe room doing _here_? It shouldn't be thi-" her voice cut off abruptly as a Robobrain moved from around the corner and rolled quietly up to her, speaking in a flanged and soothing feminine voice.

"Welcome to Vault 112, resident! According to sensors, you have arrived 202.3 years behind schedule. Please redress in your Vault-Tec issued Vault suit before proceeding. If you have misplaced your suit, I am authorized to distribute a new one. Once dressed, please proceed down the stairs to the main floor so that you may enter your assigned Tranquility Lounger."

"Uh. Yes, I need a new suit, please." The robot pulled one delicately from an internal compartment with its pincers and gave it to Cort, then rolled off to perform another task. Charon spoke up as it receded.

"It fucking thinks you're supposed to be here?"

"It's probably because of my Pip-Boy." Cort fingered the device, looking up at him.

"So were those fucking things in the Vault back home?" Charon lowered his shotgun and carefully continued to watch the machine as it slowly whirred away.

"No, we just had a Mister Handy, no creepy brain ladies. This one seems to be completely non-hostile like Andy was though. We certainly didn't have whatever the hell a Tranquility Lounger is. Charon, I don't like the look of this place. It's all wrong."

"Took the words out of my fucking mouth. What now?" Fingering the smooth new material of the 112 suit she was holding, Cort looked around.

"Keep looking for Dad. There have to be more people in here somewhere, it's a Vault. They were designed to save bunches of _people_, not robots. Besides, he came here looking for someone, Doctor Braun."

Proceeding into the next area through jarringly familiar doors, they emerged onto a catwalk running the length of a dimly lit, cavernous room. Here Cort found the residents she had been looking for, encased in pods surrounding a giant, cable wrapped pillar with garish red lights glimmering out of it. She stared down into the area, mouth ajar and eyes wide before speaking quietly.

"Okay, this little quest I'm on has officially reached the 'totally fucking creepy' threshold." Breaking away, she ran back out of the catwalk and down the stairs, heading for a new door, Charon and the dog hot on her heels. Bursting into the new room, she rushed up to a pod and pressed her face against it. "Look for him, look for him!"

Starting on the opposite side, the ghoul methodically walked up to each pod in turn and peered in as Dogmeat wandered around the edges of the room, sniffing and looking confused. He found what his employer had been dying to locate, sometimes quite literally, on his third attempt. There was no question it was her father. "Here." Charon pulled his brows together. He could have been staring at a sleeping Cort, if she had been older, taller and a man. The hair was a different colour, and it was hard to see the shape of his jaw through the beard, but his face was the same, handsome where hers was pretty. Her face was pressed against the curved glass a moment later, wailing.

"_Daddy_! Oh God, get it _open_!" She started pulling at the side of the lid, fingers scrabbling frantically against the seams. Backing up when it didn't work, she pulled her pistol and fired at the latching mechanism, flinching when the slugs ricocheted off. Charon grabbed it from her a second later.

"Knock it the _fuck_ off, you'll kill one of us if you keep freaking the fuck out. Calm down and use your shitting brain." Both of them turned when another friendly Robobrain wheeled over to them.

"Warning, unauthorized interruption of the occupied Tranquility Lounger will terminate current resident. Please desist and enter your own assigned Tranquility Lounger when you are ready."

Cort grabbed her hair and shrieked. "_FUCK_!" Looking around wildly, she dove for the computer terminal attached to the pillar in front of her father's pod. "Fuck fuck _fuck_, you can't open them here, only check the occupant's status." She slammed the keyboard up and moved to the next terminal, repeating the action until she had made the entire circuit and paced back and forth in front of the only empty pod, still pulling on her hair. "Tranquility Lounger my ass. All of these people have elevated stress levels or something else wrong with their readings. I have to get in there." Skidding to a halt, she stripped down to her underwear, then yanked the 112 Vault suit on. Charon placed a hand on her shoulder as she did up the zipper.

"Cort." She rounded on him, screaming.

"_WHAT_?" He stared back at her implacably.

"You need to calm down. Now what the fuck are these things?"

Distracted by the question, her voice leveled out as she answered. "Uh, they're probably some kind of virtual reality simulation. You get in and what you see, it looks and feels real, like a really vivid dream. It could be anything, really, whatever the programmer makes it out to be."

"So you don't have any fucking idea what's in there."

"My _Dad's_ in there, and that means I have to go in."

"You haven't slept all fucking day and you're going to pieces because of it. Please try to tell me how it's a great fucking idea for you to jump into that fucking thing and go barreling off into the unknown, tired as shit. I bet it'll be a fucking _awesome _idea, because we both know that always works out so fucking fantastic for you."

She walked over and leaned her face against the glass, looking in at James. "But he's right here, I have to _go_, Charon." Dogmeat came up to her and whined loudly, and she dropped immediately down to the floor, stroking his head and hugging him as she calmed the animal. "Oh no, it's okay, baby. Don't worry, Momma's fine, really." The dog pressed into her and whuffed quietly. Charon came over to watch Cort's actions closely and the animal's response to them before replying.

"Look Cort, you're a fucking wreck. He's right there, you got him, and he's sure as shit not going anywhere _this_ time, so take a fucking minute or two to rest before you run in and royally screw yourself over. _Again_." Exceedingly tired and starting to formulate an idea that had just occurred to him, Charon reached down to her, not willing to take no for an answer unless it was a direct order. "Come on, there's those empty rooms off the catwalk we can go bunk down in." Cort stared down at her hands and then back up at Charon, pointedly refusing to look at the pod holding her father again. She reached up to him hesitantly and he pulled her up, holding onto her wrist as he walked away from the area and up the stairs after grabbing her scattered clothing and pack.

Cort started fretting as she trod up the stairs behind him, her voice breaking again. "I want my Dad and my head hurts."

"You've found him and that's what happens when you fucking land on it, jackass." Coming into the first room they reached he let go of her and her belongings, then pushed the lock button on the door, not willing to risk leaving it open if one of the Robobrains decided to preemptively shove her into one of the pods. Slinging his own pack and armour off as well as removing the dog's, he pulled her over again and sat down after spreading out their blankets.

After gathering her into his lap, Charon put his new plan into practice, holding her against him and slowly running one hand over her head and neck. Gratified when she started calming down almost instantly, he continued the motions until she hesitantly spoke up.

"What are you...are you _petting_ me?"

"You do it for the mutt when he pitches a fit." He paused in his movements, frowning. "Am I doing it wrong?"

Cort closed her eyes, thought about how his rough hand dragging through her hair had felt before answering him. "No, you're not."

Immediately Charon started raking his fingers over the back of her head again, rubbing down behind her ears and the sides of her neck as he pressed his other hand against her stomach. This was proving to be a fantastic tactical approach on his part to these particular situations, and he didn't know why he hadn't attempted it previously, having successfully taken cues from the mutt before. It also seemed to be working much, much faster. Congratulating himself for coming up with an improved and much more effective strategy, he tightened his arm around her as she pushed back against him.

After Cort's breathing had lengthened into deep, even movements which he took as a sign she was falling asleep, he smoothly transferred her to a lying position, keeping one massive hand on her waist as he settled behind her on the floor. As distressing as her fits had been to him previously on multiple levels, both conscious and unconscious, he decided he liked taking care of them, and her. He liked what he had just done to her immensely, in point of fact, and carefully thought about it in detail as he drifted off. He would have to try more of it, to see if had preventative uses, and because he wanted to. _She said I could do whatever the hell I wanted after she hired me. I want to do more of that. _Charon fell asleep in a calmer frame of mind than he could ever remember being in, slipping under as a small, slender hand wrapped itself around his own.

* * *

**Cort** was staring at the far wall, her mind a riot of confusion and her body in a total uproar. She felt like she was burning from the inside out, with a raging desire to stretch out every muscle as far as she could to try and reach the ache that had settled inside of her. Closing her eyes and snapping them open again just as quickly, she held onto Charon's hand where it rested on her side and thought rapidly. _What the hell just happened. What the hell did he just DO to me? Fuck, you know _exactly _what he did, you lived under a rock, you weren't _born _under it. What he did was wind your hormones up higher than a fucking kite. The real Goddamned question is does _he _know what he's done, and what you're going to do about it._ Cort decided that answer to the former question, after a short period of deliberation, was an emphatic no. While incredibly fussy over her well-being, he had never shown any indication of wanting to fuss with _that_. She wasn't even quite sure what to do if he had, not being exposed to anything in the Vault that had managed to get her proverbial motor running, and nothing outside of it staying around long enough to either. Not like _this_. What was she going to do about _this_?

Patting her hand to get Dogmeat to move closer from where he had laid down earlier, she dug her other hand into the accustomed place on his ruff and closed her eyes, frustrated and finding the day entirely too long and complicated. _I don't have time for this. Not right now. Too much damned thinking, that's what I've been doing. Too much._


	42. Tranquilitot

_Thanks for the new favs, new readers!_

* * *

**They** woke up close to noon the next day, Dogmeat first and the other two soon after. After eating heavily, they walked back down to the main area, Cort pausing to press her face against the Tranquility Lounger holding James for a moment before moving to the unoccupied one. Charon scowled at her as she crawled up into the reclined seat, repeating the same query he had given her several times since waking.

"I don't fucking like this. Why can't we figure out a way for me to follow you?" Cort glanced over at him as she started punching buttons, reading the instructional labels around her.

"Because there's no way you can. This is the only working empty one, and you don't have one of these." She held up her Pip-Boy and wiggled it, then returned to what she was doing. Cort was trying extremely hard not to think about how much she didn't want to leave Charon, even if she technically wasn't going anywhere. Waking up with his arm wrapped around her she had been calm and happy, both emotions dashed a second later when she remembered why she was lying on a Vault room floor, breathing in the tinny stale air. They had been rapidly replaced by feelings of guilt and confusion over her father and herself, for being happy when he was stuck in a simulation going through God only knew what, and because she didn't know how to handle or face what had happened with the ghoul. She was also extremely worried about going into the simulation herself. If her father hadn't come out yet, there was a good chance that he couldn't, and if she couldn't get him or herself out, there was no way Charon would be able to release either of them.

"I don't fucking like it." Looking over, Cort snapped, hovering on the verge of jumping back out to him.

"Well you just have to fucking _deal_ with it. If I don't come out, take care of Dogmeat. I don't know how long this will take, so use your best judgement on how long to wait for me." Quickly triggering the dome to close over her before he could get another word out, she sat back and looked ahead as the overhead terminal descended, antennas extending around her face. Charon slapped his hand against the pod, yelling.

"_Cort_!" Her eyes flickered to his for a split second before they rolled entirely back into her head, the whites shining disturbingly at him before they closed. Resisting the urge to break the glass and haul her out, Charon backed up and settled into a familiar standing position he had perfected over decades of practice. "I'm fucking waiting until you fucking _come out_." Dogmeat whuffed from beside him and sat down, eyes fixed on his world.

* * *

**Everything** was white. Cort was reminded of her first few seconds outside of Vault 101 before insipid, cheerful music started up in her head and her vision resolved into a small park surrounded by a circular road and houses. It was also completely devoid of all colour. She stared, slack-jawed. "Oh my God. I'm trapped in Leave it to fucking Beaver." Looking around, she saw a balding man in pre-war clothing walking towards her. New horror dawned on her when she realized that he was either growing bigger as he came up to her, or she had shrunk. Tilting her head down, she noted much smaller hands, much smaller _everything_, and a little dress she wouldn't have been caught dead in even if she had been given one when she was originally this size. Alarmingly, her Pip-Boy was also missing, making her feel uncomfortably exposed. "What the fuck? I'm a Goddamned _munchkin_! Oh, Jesus creeping Christ." Cort reached up to pinch her nose, somehow more disturbed by the missing break line than she was by everything else.

"Hey now sport, that's not very good language! Your parents are liable to wash your mouth out with soap if you go on like that!" Having another surreal moment when it appeared that Moira had started speaking out of the man's mouth, she grudgingly tilted her head up towards him.

"That would only work if I had parents right now. Speaking of! Have you seen my father, Mister...?"

"Neusbaum, George Neusbaum, and it's nice to see you've at least got manners! Say, you should go talk to _Betty_. She's waiting for you over at the playground. Have fun, sport!"

Cort stood stock still and watched him continue around the sidewalk, moving only her eyes as she did it, then bemusedly walked to the crosswalk and looked both ways. _If I need to talk to Betty, I'll go talk to Betty. Maybe whoever the hell frigging _Betty _is knows where _Dad_ is at._ Walking across the street towards the playground, a dog that looked like Dogmeat turned around and started barking at her rapidly. _Huh. Must pick up cues from people's own memories, clever. He's missing his bandanna, though._ Walking over as the animal replaced the barks with whines, she reached out and scratched around his ears. "What's the matter boy, huh? What's going to upset a virtual dog, an imaginary cat?" She turned around when another obnoxiously chipper voice piped up from behind her.

"Oh hi there! Someone new to play with, what good luck I have lately!" Cort stared at her, one eyebrow cocked. It was another little girl in a similar dress to her own, with what she thought was blonde hair. Closing her eyes momentarily and wishing for things in Technicolor, she listened to the kid continue. "I was just starting to get bored, we're going to have so much _fun_ together."

Opening her eyes and digging her hand farther into the dog's fur, she replied. "So you're Betty then, I take it?"

"Yup! I live here on Tranquility Lane. Want to play a game with me?"

Thinning her lips, Cort glared at her. _I want to play punch you in the Goddamned head._ "No, thank you, I'd really like to know what's going on and where my father is, if you know."

"Oh gee I don't know, what's he like?" Betty had a supercilious smile on her face that wouldn't fool anyone with half a brain, and Cort happened to have retained all of hers, albeit with some newly crossed wiring.

"Look kiddo, I know he's in here. Inside this simulation, in Vault 112." Starting to get her back up, she watched Betty's smile become vicious.

"Oh, wow, that man that came here earlier is your Daddy? And you're in here looking for him? Oh this is going to be so much fun, _too_ much fun! We're going to play my game right _now_!"

Ire completely raised, Cort planted her feet, resisting the urge to stomp one in a hissy fit. "I told you no. No games. You tell me where my father is _now_, you little bastard."

"Oh don't be like that, that's not a good way to start! I said we're going to play a game, so that's what we're going to do. _Now_. Or you'll never see your Daddy again or get out of here." Cort glowered and said nothing. "Good girl! It's a really easy game, you just have to make Timmy Neusbaum cry, for starters. There's lots of ways, have fun! He's right over there at his lemonade stand!"

She swallowed and stared at Betty. "For starters?"

"Oh yes, I've got all sorts of ideas planned. It's going to be a very long, super fun game! After that you can break up the Rockwell's marriage! Then there's all kinds of other stuff." Cort's heart dropped as Betty clapped and bounced. The Robobrain had said she had arrived over 200 years late, and the other people in the pods had clearly been here since the beginning of the simulation, considering the wasted state their bodies had been in. Spending another few centuries running around in this monochromatic hellhole was not at the top of her apocalyptic to-do list, by a long shot. She let go of the dog and started walking out of the park, looking around as Betty chirped up behind her again. "Oooh and why don't you take the doggy for company! He can watch _everything you do_ while you play with me. I made him especially just for you!"

"Sure. Here, boy." Cort weakly called to the dog and rested her arm on his neck as he came up to her, still whining. She walked back across the street with it, tugging gently on one of his ears and absently falling into reassuring habits. "Shush honey, Momma's thinking. You know, you really _do_ look just like my dog." Leaning against one of the picket fences, she looked around and kept talking to him. "I'm not going to play along with whatever that little _bitch _wants me to do. The way those people's vital signs were pinging off the chart, there's no way it's all unicorn farts and rainbows in here like it looks. Having to make some little kid cry and break up a marriage just proves it." Watching a woman with dark hair and an indeterminately coloured dress pass her on a seemingly aimless loop, she called out, wishing to try an experiment. "Hey lady!"

"Well hello dear, did you just move here? I'm Janet Rockwell!" Cort suppressed a growl when the woman had to lean down to speak with her.

"So you know that you're currently roaming around inside some crazy simulation right? None of this stuff around you is real."

The woman laughed at her bemusedly before walking on. "Oh, you're such a kidder. To much time in those comic books young lady!"

Cort yelled after her, exasperated. "Too much time in a Vault!" She was nearly bowled over a second later as a much older woman grabbed onto her. Yelping, she wrapped an arm around the dog tightly and looked up at the crazed senior.

"You, you don't belong here! You're not supposed to be here! None of this is real, it needs to end, we're living in hell! So much suffering!"

"Ouch! That really _hurts_!" The words sinking in as the dog snarled at the woman, Cort shook her arm and tried to detach the painful grip as she spoke. "You know it's all fake? Do you know where my Dad is?" The woman continued on, not hearing her as the dog barked.

"It has to end but we're not in charge, he's in charge, and he won't let us wake up!"

Stupidly, Cort blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "My Dad?" She shushed the dog as it barked again, louder.

"No! Betty. At least he calls himself Betty now. All he is underneath is pure rotting evil. Braun can change his face all he likes, but I know, I always know. Bastard thinks he's a god because he created this place, but I know he still uses the Failsafe Terminal. _I know it_." She whipped her head around, looking at the other residents with wide eyes before looking back at Cort. "He'll send one of the others after me soon if I don't stop talking to you, tell them I need my medicine or to lay down. But I don't. Please, I'm begging you, find the terminal. It's in the abandoned house, _somewhere_." She jerked up, letting go of Cort abruptly. "Oh hello Mister Foster, how are you? No, I'm fine, just going to go inside out of the sun for a while." She flashed one terrified look back over her shoulder before walking off.

"Okay well that conversation went somewhere weird." Cort pinched her nose again, squeezing her eyes shut. "I want Dad back, I want Dogmeat back, I want Charon back, I want colour back and would someone please turn off that FUCKING MUSIC?" Slumping to the ground as the dog whuffed disapprovingly, she yanked her dress down over her knees and hitched out a sob. She reached up as the dog changed to a whine, stroking his head. "I would also like the two feet and change Braun's simulation chopped off of me. And pants. I want _pants_. And my Pip-Boy. And my _repeater_." Leaning against the animal as it sat beside her, she sighed and rearranged her thoughts.

Cort stared across the road, drawing a mental bead on Betty-no, Braun- as he watered the flowers. If the unstable old woman had been telling the truth, Cort had something she could get a handle on. Terminals were something she could do. Pushing herself up and yanking the hated dress back down over her rear, she started searching the houses. Some were empty, but most had more terminally deluded residents in them. She paused in her circuit next to the boy Braun had wanted her to torture, looking for direction and figuring that at least appearing like she was playing along was a good idea.

"Hi, Timmy."

"Hi! Hey, you've got Betty's dog!"

"_Betty'_s dog?" Cort was puzzled. The simulation looked like _her _dog; Braun had made him specifically for her.

"Yeah, she just got it a few weeks ago! She won't let me play with him though, she's really mean." Getting a suspicious feeling, Cort shrewdly looked around. There weren't any other animals visible in the simulation with them. Quietly counting the number of occupied pods and the number of living creatures she had encountered inside the simulation in her head, she swore and asked Timmy another question, working on a hunch.

"Fuck. So, uh, what's Betty's dog's _name_?" Timmy glanced up from stirring his pitcher of lemonade, goggling for a moment.

"Wow, don't you get spanked for using the F-word?"

"I'm really too big for that, honestly. Tiny parents. Almost non-existent. Possibly without hands at the moment. The dog's name?"

"Oh! His name is Doc."

The other shoe dropped for Cort at his reply, a sinking feeling attached to it. "_Doc_?" Oh for fuuu_hudge_ sakes." She rapidly transferred the profanity into something innocuous, wincing as she turned to face the animal glaring at her. "Sorry, Dad."

* * *

_Leave it to Beaver is an early 50s program, and considering how goofy media culture is in the game, I can easily see that show existing in some capacity in the Fallout World's past. Plus, really fun line to write. ;)_


	43. Letting Loose

**"Is** it really you? Really?" Cort collapsed to the sidewalk, barking her knees painfully as the dog made as close an approximation to a nod as he could. Burying her face into his neck for a long moment and hugging him, she sat back and let out a sob. James pawed at her leg, whining as she wiped her face with the back of one hand. "Look, it'll be fine Daddy, I'll fix it. I already know stuff that Braun didn't want me to know, so that's nearly the whole thing done right there."

Cort scrunched her brows together, thinking. She still had a job to do. At some point Braun would probably catch on to the fact that she wasn't playing along. She decided leading him down the garden path for the moment would not be a bad idea, possibly lulling him into believing she was doing his dirty work while giving herself more time to work with. _Fucking bastard. I don't do anyone's dirty work. I do my _own _work. He probably doesn't believe anyone can do something aside from what he wants after all this time anyway._ She turned back to face the boy.

"So, Timmy, where's the abandoned house Betty doesn't want anyone to go in?" She stood and looked towards where he was pointing, the last house she had to check. "Typical. It's never the first one, ever, is it."

"Huh?" The boy looked at her questioningly.

"Nevermind. So Timmy, Doc's _my_ dog now, and you can play with him later if you want to, but we gotta do something first."

"Really for real? What?"

"Well, Betty gave him to me to make you cry, but I don't want to do what she says, she's dumb and creepy. Her games are really boring, too."

"Yeah. And really, really mean." The kid looked so depressed Cort wanted to walk up to Braun and floor him all over again.

"Sooo I figured we could play our _own_ game. Alls you have to do is fake crying and run into your house, and then she'll think I made you do it, and then tomorrow I can come over to your house and play! She won't be able to go backsies or anything and take Doc away then."

"_Coool_. Can he do tricks?"

"Uh, yeah!" She leaned down and whispered to James before speaking louder. "For the love of _God_, play along. Okay Doc, sit up!" Timmy laughed as the animal clumsily sat up, pedaling his front legs in the air for balance. "See? Now make with the fake, kiddo! I'll see you tomorrow."

Putting on an appreciably genuine performance in her opinion, Timmy started wailing and bolted into his house, slamming the door. Cort swung around to face Betty, throwing a thumbs up and slapping a rictus of a smile on. She hissed quietly through her teeth as she waved in response to Betty's clapping. "That's right, I just made the kid cry, everything's working out, your plan is succeeding, you fucking pint-sized tinpot _asshole_." Stopping her motions she looked down at James, who was glaring again. At least, Cort thought, as much as a dog _could_ glare. She frowned down at him. "Hey, don't look at me like that! At least I've managed to keep the correct amount of feet. And my _species_." Rubbing at her eyes again, she took off around the perimeter of Tranquility Lane, skulking towards the abandoned house and slipping in a moment later, holding the door open long enough for her father to slip through.

Blinking in the sudden dim she looked around the musty-smelling house, starting to wander carefully through the rooms. The living room was filled with assorted junk and she bypassed it immediately to head upstairs, James clicking behind her. "Is there even any point to asking why you left me in the Vault right now? I mean, it's not like you can give me an articulate answer. Everything went to hell after you left. And I'd be dead by now if it wasn't for Dogmeat and Charon." He made a strange strangled series of sounds as she walked into one of the bedrooms, terminating in a loud whine. "Yeah, I thought so. No point in asking." Cort felt around the walls, frustrated that she couldn't reach higher, then headed back downstairs to search the kitchen.

"Creepy thing." She flicked the face of a garden gnome among the detritus in the living room and jerked to a halt when a jarring, discordant tone rang out of it. Darting her hand out to touch it again, the same thing happened. "Okay, that's definitely odd. Try poking the other stuff." Cort and her father walked around the rooms tapping things, her with a hand and him with a paw, the broken radio singing out with a pure note when he scratched at it. "That one." Rushing over, she tapped it again, getting the discordant tone instead. "What the hell?" Striking it once more produced the pure note. On impulse, James nosed the pitcher next to it, producing another, different pure note. "_Oooh_."

Rapidly catching on, Cort darted around the room, striking and re-striking notes until all she received were the pure ones. "Radio, pitcher, creepy creepy gnome, pitcher, cinder block, gnome, and Nuka bottle!" Immediately after flicking the neck of the bottle, the far wall of the room shimmered with static and disappeared, revealing a terminal attached to a mainframe. Hugging the dog as he barked, she smiled. "We did it!" Trotting over to the terminal, she reached up and pulled the keyboard down, rapidly bringing up the different screens. Her face fell rapidly as she read.

"He's been torturing these people. Ripping them apart for decades. _Centuries_, now. Killing them over and over in different simulations, then just wiping their minds clean to start it all over. No wonder that old lady was so scattered." Grimly, she read the last entry left. "Chinese Invasion Simulation. So the bastard wanted to be able to end it all when he got too bored to slaughter them anymore, but he screwed up, can't be killed by it. And he won't let them die either because fake people aren't _entertaining_ enough." She looked over to James, who had remained silent. "I can't let them stay like this. Can I." She watched the dog awkwardly twist his head from side to side. "No." Cort selected the 'Initiate' option, gently pushed the execute button, and headed back outside.

Everything was anarchy. Chinese commandos with assault rifles were everywhere, gunning down the residents. Horrified, she watched Timmy shot down next to his lemonade stand, and the old lady who had told her about the Failsafe Terminal nearly in front of her, talking to her as she died. "Thank you! Oh, thank-" Her head was obliterated a moment later. Cort sat on the stoop, hugged her father to her and wept as she watched the invasion program take place.

Winding her snuffling down as everything went quiet, she got up and shakily dusted herself off. "Okay. Let's go see that bastard Braun and get the hell out of here, if we can. If not, I'll teach you how to write or something." Cort strode up towards the playground, pausing when a pair of commandos ran up to her and snapped out a salute, one of them barking out a stream of Chinese before both repeated the gesture and left. "Huh. That's interesting." Eyeing the retreating figures speculatively she headed over to where the child Braun had turned himself into was fuming next to a freestanding door rippling with static, his voice cracking between that of the German man he really was and the little girl's.

"Do you realize what you've done? You've triggered the Failsafe! Now I'll be stuck here alone in this hell forever! You've ruined everything!"

Cort snarled at him. "You fucking deserve it for what you did to them, and keeping my father from me!"

Braun waved a hand at her and spat. "Pah. Your father has been in front of you the whole time, and you were too dense to see it. He was the dog the-"

"Yeah I figured that one out, Einstein. You named him _Doc_, nitwit, how stupid do you think a person has to be not to figure that the fuck out? Now you're going to answer my questions, you little bitch."

"No! This is my world, my creation! I own it!" He slumped defeatedly a second later. "Fine. Ask your infernal questions."

Cort grilled Braun about everything she could think of, from how to leave the simulation, the G.E.C.K. and himself, to why he had created Tranquility Lane. This final topic caused him to degenerate into his previous vitriol.

"Everything, you've ruined everything! Simulated people will never be as interesting as the real _things_!"

"They weren't things! They were never things! And I've had just about enough of you!" Cort hauled off and belted him in the face, putting as much of her currently small shoulder behind it as she could.

"You, you meanie!" Braun screeched in the girl's voice and started kicking at Cort, rapidly retreating a moment later when a stream of Chinese rang out, soldiers rushing towards him. "No, no! The system is designed to resurrect me automatically and I can't turn them off! I will be killed by them forever! You must return to the Failsafe Terminal and shut them down!"

Cort's face broke into a manic grin as she realized what had happened. "Oh no, I don't think I shall. This seems too beautifully poetic. Besides, that's what you get for attacking their commanding officer. I'll be sure to reset 112's door as well, so nobody aside from me will ever be able to get in _again_." She turned to the dog standing beside her as Braun screamed in his two voices, then walked over to the door and opened it. "Come on Dad, get going. Don't..don't freak out at Charon when you wake up, okay?" Cort waited after the dog went through, listening for the shrieking from behind to her stop. She only moved forward when it had finally begun all over again.

* * *

**Charon** was finding it extremely hard to hold on to his patience as the minutes slipped past him. After barely an hour had gone by, he had moved around and hesitantly poked at the terminal for Cort's Tranquility Lounger, wanting to have at least some idea of how she was doing. All he could learn was that like everyone else, her stress levels were elevated. _Since when is that a fucking change from normal. She's nothing but fucking stress with legs._ Slowly pushing the keyboard closed, he returned to his place by Dogmeat, who hadn't moved, and resumed his position. He was grimly considering setting up a permanent camp in the room they had slept in, trying to figure out how to organize resupply missions for him and the dog, when the terminals started beeping one by one. A second later, the occupants started jerking around as Robobrains streamed into the room. He darted in front of one as it passed by him.

"What's happening?" It whirred to a halt and spoke pleasantly before detouring around him to one of the now opening pods.

"Failsafe system has been activated. Previous Tranquility Lounger residents are to be removed as they terminate for storage or disposal." Charon rapidly moved back towards Cort, looking in anxiously. She was still breathing, but everyone else dropping dead around her was probably not a good sign.

Jerking his head up, he looked across to her father's pod as the last of the others opened, the robots starting to remove the bodies and disappear with them. It was still closed, and there was no movement from within. Leaning over, the ghoul placed a hand on the side of the glass and waited. If Cort was still alive then she was probably the one doing the killing, particularly since her father wasn't dead yet either. He absently watched the last Robobrain quietly leave with its emaciated cargo, positive that his employer would be coming back to him soon.

Things didn't happen in quite the order he would have preferred. Down the row, her father's Tranquility Lounger swung open first. Charon watched the man slowly wake up, almost falling when his legs hit the ground. Rubbing his face and then flexing his hands in front of him while smiling and muttering about 'thumbs', he made his way over to where Cort lay, freezing instantly when he noticed the ghoul standing next to her. Warily keeping an eye on him, James straightened up and calmly addressed him.

"I take it you're Charon?" Deciding that he definitely did _not _want to have this conversation until Cort instructed him on how to proceed, if at all, Charon fell back and hid behind old habits.

"Talk to Cort."

"I will as soon as she wakes up. First I would like to know exactly how-" Cutting him off before he could go any farther, Charon straightened up to match James' posture and visibly shut himself down after replying.

"Talk. To. Cort."

James frowned as he stared at the ghoul, distracted a moment later by a yip in front of him. Looking down, he smiled. "Well, you must be Dogmeat. I see the resemblance." He crouched down and rubbed at the dog's ears, the animal wiggling happily at the attention and excitedly sniffing. All three of them snapped their heads around a moment later when Cort's Tranquility Lounger started to open, her hands scrabbling at the lid and chair before she launched herself out of it, yelling.

"_Daddy_!" James had time to stand up before she slammed into him, crushing him in a hug and knocking the air out of his lungs.

"Oof! Someone's gotten strong." Cort pushed her face into his chest and squeezed harder, easily lifting him entirely off of the ground. James blinked, his feet dangling for a moment before touching down. "Someone's gotten _very_ strong." He gently put his hands on his daughter's shoulders and pushed back lightly, looking into her face as she turned it up to him. Cort was caught between crying and whooping for joy.

"I had time to while I was looking for you, and I found you, I finally _found_ you. I had to go to _so_ many places, I-"

James gently cut her off. "Yes, honey, and you saved me. I thought I would be stuck in there forever. I expected to find research notes, or holotapes, anything but an insane and alive Braun." He pulled her back, hugging Cort to him. "It's so good to see you, but what are you _doing_ here? What are you doing outside the Vault at all? I don't even want to know _how_ you got out, but I suppose it's irrelevant now. There's no way Alphonse would let you back in."

Wrenching herself backwards, Cort pulled away, quickly starting to lose her temper. "I got out because Amata came to help me _escape_, to help me find you. And no, I'm pretty sure he _won't_ let me back in." James reached out towards her, dropping his hand as she backed up even further, eyes wide and staring.

"I wanted you to stay there honey, where it was safe. To make a life for yourself there, not out here! You could have had a good life in the Vault."

"Yeah, it was starting off really excellent Dad. I can't even decide what was the best part was, Amata yelling that you were gone, Jonas being _beaten to death_ over you leaving, or people trying to _shoot_ me! Alphonse blamed _me _for everything, Daddy, not you. The only reason I even got out was because of _Amata_. You have no idea what I had to do after that to get here. How many people I've had to kill." Cort clenched her fists, shifting from foot to foot as she watched her father's face furrow up in pain, replaced a moment later by a firm authority.

"Honey, I am sorry, so sorry. I know you don't understand, but I thought I was doing the best for you, keeping you somewhere secure, where you could live your own life, have your own family, your own children." The last tenuous hold Cort had on herself snapped at his words, and she shrieked at him.

"I'LL NEVER _HAVE_ CHILDREN NOW!" James' face blanched, and he started towards her, Cort holding her ground this time.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm a fucking mutated _freak_ who's as barren as the damned dust in this shithole world!" Sobbing, she wrapped her arms around herself. "I helped some crazy researcher out to get supplies for going after you and the surprise payment was getting screwed up genes and sterilized." Cort started rocking back and forth while James rushed over and grabbed her by the shoulders again, his face and voice frighteningly inscrutable.

"_Who_ did it to you?" She twisted in his grip, shaking her head with a disdainful look.

"It doesn't matter, she had no idea it would happen and was pretty damned horrified when I told her. All that matters is that I'm a messed up ugly piece of shit nobody's _ever _going to want."

James pulled her in tight, resting his head against the top of hers. "Oh no honey, don't say that. You're beautiful." She brought her arms up and violently shoved him away, catching himself on the edge of one of the loungers and staring at her.

"I'm what? _What? FUCKING LOOK AT ME_!" Cort ripped the top of her Vault suit open, tearing it off to the waist, then flung her arms out, breathing heavily with an anguished look on her face. Lacing in and out of her underwear and the bottom of the suit were a network of scars, made up of slashes, bullet wounds, bite marks and others James couldn't even begin to identify the cause of. Dried blood from herself and Charon was scattered in patches over all of her, soaked into her bra. He walked back over and cradled her face in his hands, eyes full of love and sorrow as he kissed her on the forehead and spoke quietly.

"All I see is my beautiful little girl." Collapsing to the floor with her father following her, Cort let out a shattering wail from the very depths of her damaged soul.


	44. Release by Realization

_Thanks for the new reviews, aww you guys are so sweet!_

* * *

**Charon** stood by the Tranquility Lounger and watched Cort and her father, unsure of what to do. She hadn't even looked at him or the dog since reemerging from it, and while she was winding herself up again to a dangerous level, he was extremely hesitant to interrupt. Whatever he had expected to come out of his employer, it hadn't quite been this. Hearing her shriek out her admission of sterility, he had suppressed a wince, doing it again when she voiced the opinion she had of herself. The first statement made perfect sense, thinking about the type of mutation she had acquired. Ghouls were completely sterile, and it was not a surprise that Cort would be either considering what she could now do. He could accept her displeasure over losing the ability to procreate as normal, since most of the ghouls in Underworld seemed to share the same opinion at one time or another. What he couldn't understand for the life of him was her second declaration.

Watching both of the smoothskins collapse onto the floor, James holding Cort and rocking her as she cried, he puzzled over it as the dog sat next to both of them and whined. Messed up was probably a reasonable assessment, considering her emotional instabilities, but nothing that couldn't be remedied with the appropriate response. Also, he cynically mused, who _wasn't_ messed up out here. On a sliding scale of all the screwed up people he had met in his long life, Cort wasn't even close to being near the top of it. Previous employers and the people who had brainwashed him for instance, were-

Unexpectedly thinking back to that early period of his life, Charon firmly slammed the door on it and refocused on Cort, who was still making incredibly distressing noises. He kept suppressing the urge to go over and pick her up, and went back to thinking things out. It did not matter if she was messed up. The ugly statement made even _less_ sense. She was an entirely whole person, if you didn't count the missing part of her ear, and while interestingly scarred, her skin was smooth and complete. _Well, until we get into another fucking mess. Then she's just going to grow it the hell back anyway once we're through._ Charon frowned. Even her insane hair was perfect when he thought about it. Her father's correction to her claim had been entirely accurate; she _was _beautiful.

He held back a snort, not wanting either of the two in front of him to interpret it the wrong way. The last part of her claim had been the most ludicrous. People wanted Cort. Admittedly, some of those people wanted to kill her, but not all of them. Her father was obviously happy to see her again, even with both of them being emotionally upset at the moment, and there were people in Underworld and Megaton who always wanted her to come back. The damned bartender had practically looked at her like the mutt did. Absently adding the dog to the list of things he was tallying up, he continued with his line of thought. The insufferable merchant they had met outside of Rivet City had also appeared to want her, and most of all, Charon himself definitely wanted her. He wanted her more than anything else he had ever had in his life, and-

His mental processes ground to a halt, completely poleaxed by the revelation that had just struck him like a baton to the face. He wanted her. He wasn't entirely sure in just what capacity, but knew that it definitely involved more touching and something else, something deep in the back of his mind that he couldn't identify yet. Something warm and painful, but somehow good at the same time. Charon closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. _Fuck. What did she fucking _do _to me? What the flying fuck do I do now. _

Emotional attachment of this type was something that was never supposed to happen to him. A need to feel loyalty towards his employers had always been one of the tenets of his contract, as well as receiving pleasure from directing aggression towards a designated target and its subsequent annihilation. Anything else had been thoroughly and brutally stamped out through harsh and repetitive training. Charon had not been designed to be a caring or sexual animal, both being considered unacceptable and distracting operational flaws by his makers.

Cort's unorthodox behaviour had undermined the strict borders laid down within him almost a century before, worn thin by her unflinching loyalty and blind acceptance along with Charon's growing desire to adapt his _own_ behaviour to serve her better. Ahzrukhal's restrictive methods straining him to the breaking point for more than half of his life had also helped to pave the way for Cort's actions, sleep deprivation having been one of the tools used to make him what he was in the first place. He had been frustrated, battered and empty for decades. What he was now was changing, because of her.

No one involved with making him could have predicted a future employer needing to be held while they cried, and to look to him for that comfort, or expect the employer to give it back in return. For that matter, ending up with a lonely nineteen year old girl as an employer had probably been outside of their purview as well. One that was viciously protective to the exclusion of her own safety, and chose to engage him in silly, liberating play. That had taken it upon herself to place the most important thing in his life inside of her to protect him, and become an embodiment of it as a result. If Charon had known enough about psychology to ask Cort what a comfort object was, he would have latched onto the concept immediately as the correct designation for her, albeit on a much more mature and complicated level. As for the rest of his feelings and impulses, it was simple enough. The ghoul was still male, and he found Cort attractive. He would eventually figure it out.

"Charon?" He snapped his eyes open and instantly focused his full attention back towards Cort who had come up and patted him on the chest, her father standing behind her and looking at him speculatively. As earth-shattering as his realization had been, it hadn't had quite the same totally disconnecting effect that previous shocks had given him. For one, he had gone through large enough ones already to be more flexible, more willing to bend. For another, he couldn't find a reason to be as upset with this particular schism as with the others. Even with the nauseating uneasiness he was now suffering, Charon felt like he was getting something important back, not losing it.

"What." He looked down at her. Enough time had passed for her to calm down while he had been occupied inside himself, and she had pulled her Vault suit closed again.

"I'm going upstairs with Dad, I need to talk to him for a while alone. Can you keep Dogmeat with you for a little bit?"

"As you wish." Giving him an odd look, she left the large room and disappeared, surfacing on the catwalk a moment later. After ducking into the place they had camped in to change back into the black shirt and cargos that usually went with their armour, she rejoined her father outside and went into the second room down the wall with him, presumably so Charon could access their supplies without causing an interruption. He looked down at Dogmeat, who was staring questioningly up at him. "Hungry?" The dog whuffed. "Yeah. Me too." Charon went upstairs to feed the dog and wait. For what, he wasn't sure.

* * *

**"There's** chairs in this one. We can sit down." Calmer if not any cleaner, aside from where the tears had wiped the dirt from her face, Cort slumped into a seat at the table in the second room and wearily watched James sit in one across from her. Fishing in a pocket, she pulled out a bottle of purified water and an apple and rolled them across to him, and then crossed her arms. "You're probably hungry for real food, it's been about four months since you left."

"That long. Thank you, honey." James caught the items and started eating them in slowly in turn, waiting for his stomach to wake up from weeks of emptiness. "So do you want to start or shall I?"

Cort smiled and let out a small snort. "Well it'd be nice to know why I had to go through all of this in the first place, Dad."

James matched her smile and looked at her. "I suppose it would be. If you've found me, you've probably found either Project Purity itself or Madison Li."

Cort nodded, screwing up her face in memory of the encounter. "Both. Li was less than forthcoming. All I got from her was the location of the lab, and a nice fat bundle of blame for ruining 'your' work. I found most of your Project Purity journals there, then came here." She watched her father frown for a moment before replying.

"Madison was very...attached to the project, and probably found it very difficult to continue without me there to convince everyone to proceed. But it _certainly_ wasn't your fault, none of it. With the increasing Super Mutant attacks and the waning of support from the Brotherhood, it was only a matter of time before we would have been driven out. That is especially clear now with what I know about our needing the G.E.C.K." James sighed and folded his hands on the table. "Project Purity was your mother's dream, her life's work. Remember her favourite Bible passage? Free, pure, clean water for everyone in the Capital Wasteland. Do you understand how important that would be?" He smiled as she nodded silently. "My smart girl, I knew you would. Everyone could really begin to start over, to rebuild. Think of the purifier back in the Vault, then imagine if it could purify millions of gallons of water at once. Humanity could start to recover, and eventually the rest of the Wasteland as the clean water spread. And now it's just waiting to be revived, which is why I came back out of the Vault once you had grown. I have to finish it, for you and your mother. For everyone."

Frowning at him, Cort snapped out a question. "Then why couldn't you bring me with you? I could _help_ with this, Dad. Seriously, as much as I wanted a family, I mean who couldn't, what with the emphasis placed on having children in the Vault, but could you honestly have pictured me settling down with one of the other kids in there after you left without warning? Or at all?"

James mouth quirked before returning to a more serious expression as he responded to her. "You could have found someone eventually, Cort. People change as they get older." She glared over the table at him, completely non-plussed.

"Freddie's got raging VDS, Wally's just plain _nuts_, not surprising considering his brother's a sadist who tried to _beat_ me to death after he finished with Jonas, by the way, and I shot Paul's dad on the way out because he was trying to do the same thing, so that kinda takes him out of the 'likes me' category. And I know _exactly_ what you thought of Butch. Who, also by the way, tried to help me, even if it was only by giving me his damned jacket." Cort bit her lip. "Officer Gomez and Stanley are the only other ones I saw who didn't attack me. I don't even know what happened to Mister Brotch."

James rubbed a hand over his face and sighed, scratching at his beard. Cort blinked, looking at her father, wondering when it and his hair had managed to get so white before he spoke and pulled her attention back.

"I can't say sorry enough, sweetheart. It's obvious you could have handled yourself enough to come with me, you got this far, and I do want your help now that you're here. It would be good to work with you on your mother's dream, fitting. But you'll just have to believe me when I say I thought I was doing the right thing for you. I thought you could make it without me there."

"Could you have made it in that hole if Mom was still alive and then just disappeared on _you_ one morning, telling you to stay behind?" He looked at her, momentarily shocked before a sad look came over his face.

"No, I don't suppose I could have. Now. Why don't you tell me what you've been going through to get to me. I think I need to hear it."

James remained silent throughout Cort's story, listening and taking it as his punishment for leaving his daughter behind. Still hurt and wanting to return the favour, she left almost nothing out, from Moriarty and Gob, to the circumstances surrounding finding Dogmeat(she absently tugged at what remained of her ear during this, delivering this particular anecdote in a matter of fact tone of voice that left him cold). She laughed about losing her hair, talked about Three Dog and his incessant blabbing, the bomb at Megaton and the current contract on her head for refusing to help murder the town, her helping the Rangers and about Moira and Barrows and Crow, and the blood. The endless trail of blood. The only things she held back were what she had done in the Springvale school to keep from being discovered, and the more salient details concerning Charon's employment, deciding it was a private matter of the ghoul's and not her place to air it out in front of her father. She finished by telling him about the Deathclaw, and how useful her mutation was, even with the drawbacks.

"Honey, are you sure about..." James rolled his shoulders uncomfortably, thinning his mouth into a line.

"About what, being sterile? You can say it Dad, I've had time to come to terms with it, at least a bit. Yes I'm sure. It hit me when I was at the Monument and I put my Vault suit away. When I broke my nose getting Dogmeat, I bled all over the crotch of it, and I was thinking how nice it was Wadsworth got all the stains out of it for me, and well." Cort coughed politely. "One thought led to another. And since I hadn't done _that_ with anyone, uhm. I knew I wasn't pregnant." Another cough, and her looking away while her face flushed. "I had Barrows confirm it for me. If I was looking for a doctor experienced enough to be able to tell, he'd certainly fit the bill. And had first-hand knowledge with this particular cause of it. And I trusted him. He and a lot of the other people in Underworld were really good to me." She turned her face back to the table and frowned. "Better than normal ones."

"And that's where you hired Charon. He's a mercenary, yes?"

Cort cocked an eyebrow, not liking the disapproving look his face was getting. "Yeees."

"I think he's dangerous, sweetie."

Cort barked out a laugh. "Well yeah, he's actually _extremely _dangerous, and I'm lucky he is, Dad. He's the only reason I've been able to make it this far." Cort frowned, firmly continuing on. "I'm not firing him, and he ca-_won't_ quit. He's my friend and he won't leave me. Ever. We take care of each other, him and me and Dogmeat."

James looked at her skeptically, not particularly reassured by her answer on more than one level. "I know you must have been lonely, Cort, but he doesn't seem very friendly. He wouldn't even talk to me when I tried, just said to talk to you, and would only repeat that."

"Oh. Well. He was probably just waiting for orders since I didn't tell him what to do if you came out first. He doesn't really talk that much to other people anyway, it took him a while to warm up to me."

Still not feeling settled about her explanations, James left it for the time being, unwilling to start a fight over it while out in the Wasteland. Detaching Cort from what was clearly a surrogate family she had built for herself, no matter how strange, would not help to mend the instabilities he was currently seeing in his beloved daughter. All he could do for now was get her somewhere safer and keep her involved in work with him, hoping that it would eventually shift her back to a more even keel.

"I know it's a lot to ask honey, but we should get moving back to Rivet City. We'll need to enlist Doctor Li's help to get the project up and running again, and I can't do it without all of her people coming with me. It will take a lot of work and time to get it ready again and we need to get started." James pushed against the table and stood up, pausing when Cort goggled at him.

"You just spent months playing a boat in Braun's bottle and you want to run out there right now?" He frowned back at her.

"Too much time has passed already. The sooner we get to Rivet City, the sooner we can get to work."

"The sooner you walk out the door, the better a chance you have of being killed." Cort kicked back from her chair and leaned on the table, gesturing towards him. "Look, I know you're better at running around out there than I am, it's obvious. You got here alone with a freaking .32 and your Vault suit. I mean, how do you even DO that?"

James quirked his mouth. "I know my way around out here, honey."

"Yeah, must be nice." Cort muttered before continuing. "Still. You just had to push yourself up to even stand easily, you've spent months stressed to hell, all you've eaten is one apple, the raiders from Evergreen Mills have all been running around with their panties in a twist for days, and it's..." Cort fiddled with her Pip-Boy. "...now completely dark out. I don't know about you, but I don't particularly like fighting Radscorpions in the dark, and even if we're quiet the bastards will notice _four_ of us a lot easier. If there's one thing I've learned from being out here, it's a very, very bad idea to go haring off when you're not really ready." She sighed and dropped her arms. "Tell me one more night would hurt a nineteen year wait. Don't even try to tell me you're not tired."

He shook his head at her, defeated. "No, I suppose it won't hurt, and yes I am." Cort came around the table and hugged him.

"Good. We can leave first thing in the morning. Charon and I can go up top and make sure it's clear while you conk out." James kissed the top of her head and shook his own.

"Where did you learn how to convince people like that?"

She smiled. "Oh, just _guess_."


	45. Do You Mean What You Think

_Thanks so much for the new favs and reviews! I really appreciate the feedback. :)_

* * *

**After **eating supper and then settling her father into the room they were staying in, reassuring him that she would be fine, she got this far, and wasn't doing more than going to peek out of a window, Cort finally got James placated enough to sleep. Since he had been in a padded chair for months without moving, she decided he needed all the help he could get and gave him both their blankets to use.

Charon had still said nothing more, wordlessly handing Cort her armour as she reached for it and had stared neutrally back at James whenever he had happened to look at him. Leaving Dogmeat behind on guard and locking the door to prevent one of the robots from entering after her father was completely out, both of them headed upstairs to the garage and outside a moment later, Cort blowing out the klaxon speakers first with her silenced pistol. Charon rasped quietly from behind her as they slowly circled the garage, looking for movement.

"I thought you were staying inside the building."

"Heey _there's_ your voice! And whoops, I slipped and fell out of it." Cort poked at her Pip-Boy, looking for life signs. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides, I really, really needed to get out under some real sky again. I like having sky." Dimming the display on the Pip-Boy, she looked up at the stars and smiled at the expanse, tracing out her favourite constellations with one hand. "This is worth getting shot for. Maybe not eaten, but definitely a fair trade-off for being shot."

Charon rolled his eyes and grunted, continuing to make his way around the perimeter. The ghoul was still feeling uneasy and unsure of what to do, partly because he didn't know what _Cort_ wanted to do with him now that she had completed her goal and clearly no longer required him. She had barely even looked at him since waking up, and when she did it was in an indirect and distracted manner, like she had forgotten he was there. The rest of it was due to the state of himself, which by now he had had ample time to think about in ever expanding circles of uncertainty, sitting alone with the dog while the other two had talked. Discovering that he wanted her only made the idea of being discarded again hurt even worse. Completing his circuit, he headed back to Cort, who was finishing up with her area. "Nothing."

"Whoof, lucky for once. We can get some sleep then and head out first thing in the morning. Sound good?"

"As you wish." Cort flipped back to the the biological detector on her Pip-Boy to keep an eye on it, and turned to face the ghoul directly, hands on her hips.

"What the hell is up with you."

"Nothing." Cort crossed her arms and stared up at him blandly, clearly not buying it.

"Like hell nothing. You've hardly said anything all day. I understand that with Dad, but why aren't you talking to _me_ anym-" Charon cut her off as a concerned note started creeping into her voice, straightening himself up while he did so.

"I need to know what my orders are. And what you intend to do with my contract now that you have achieved your objective." Blinking, Cort didn't answer right away, momentarily confused by the question and the delivery. She had learned by now that if he defaulted to his more formal, much less profane manner of speaking, it meant that he was nervous about something. Something this time sounded an awful lot like apprehensive insecurity.

"I intend to keep it right where it is, unless you tell me different. And your orders are the same as they've always been. Kill things, do what you want, don't ditch me. Wait. Did you think I was going to...get _rid_ of you when I found my Dad? When I finished my objective?" Cort winced when he nodded, not looking at her. She really _hadn't_ clarified with him what she would be doing after finding James, and had been too preoccupied with her father afterward to even really acknowledge him. All she had told him, aside from her personal desire to get him out of Ahzrukhal's employ to make _herself_ feel better about leaving Gob behind, was that she was inexperienced, lonely, and just looking for her father. Admittedly _she_ hadn't even known what she would be doing afterward, but she did know that she didn't want Charon to leave her now no matter what, even if her initial motivations had been selfish.

Cort looked down at her feet as a new thought struck her, making her feel sick. She _had_ been selfish. Had used him. As genuinely fond as she was of the ghoul now, as much as she was starting to care for the _man_, she had started out using him as something to make herself feel better. She looked back up to him, and watched his eyes instantly dart away from her again. _Oh hell, oh no. What did I do to him._

"I'm sorry Charon. I'm so, so sorry." Charon jerked his head down to look at her as she came over and hugged him, her helmet clunking against his chest plating. The apology jarred him partially out of his melancholic formality, not understanding the reason for it.

"For _what_?"

"For being a selfish asshole."

Blinking slowly, he tried to parse that particular statement and then gave it up as a bad job. "Just how fucking hard _did_ you hit your head last night?"

"You know what just never mind, don't worry about that. Don't worry about anything. I'm keeping your contract, I want you. If you want to stay with me."

Charon's anxieties over the expected abandonment and rejection slowly began to bleed out of him even as new ones rose up almost immediately to replace them over Cort's admission, not daring to believe he had heard it. There was no way she could mean it in the same way he thought he did, still struggling to understand it himself. Brutally pushing down the feeling of fear swelling up in him, he asked for clarification as he would have for a vague new order, solidly cursing himself when he couldn't keep his voice steady.

"Wh-what do you mean?"

Cort let go of him and backed up, suddenly puzzled. Charon did _not_ stutter. She spared a glance for her Pip-Boy and then motioned him back inside, not wanting to get into the detailed conversation she felt was coming while exposed. Shutting the door to the garage she removed her helmet and set it down, the ghoul mimicking her a moment later as he usually did. Running a hand through her hair she let out a long breath and looked at him before finally replying.

"I mean what I said. What don't you understand?" Charon considered disseminating into the other parts of her last statement to delay answering and then dismissed it, just wanting to get the entire unpleasant business over with. Steeling himself again, he asked her directly.

"What do you mean you want me. How."

Cort froze, mentally and physically. _Oh. Ooh. Oh my. Oh my God. Oh God. What _did _I mean. How do I even _say_ what I mean. Say something, idiot, he's staring, and it's an unhappy one. Just be honest and spit it the fuck out._

"I like you, a lot, and I want you around. I'm happier with you here and it would hurt me, in _here_, if you weren't." Charon looked visibly relieved as she tapped at her chest, and Cort belatedly realized how much it really _would_ hurt if he wasn't with her. She thought about the previous night, something she wanted to know now occurring to her. Something she desperately _needed_ to know. She twisted her fingers together, suddenly nervous. "Do. Do you want me?"

This he knew the answer to, if not the details, and so he answered immediately. "Yes."

"How?"

Charon flinched, reflexively turning away from her as an impulse to obey clashed with other facets of his eroded training. _Oh fuck. Fuck. How do I even fucking say this. I don't _know_ how. I can't say it. Fucking say something, she's probably still fucking staring._

She piped up from behind him, firmly insistent. "Well, how _do_ you want me?"

"I-I don't know _how_ to-" Charon stopped talking and snarled, frustrated.

Cort spoke to him in soft, measured tones, still wringing her hands. "You don't know how to tell me that?"

"...No."

Cort walked over and carefully sidled around in front of him. "Can you show me?"

"...Yes." Charon suddenly snapped out his hands and grabbed her, rough palms on the sides of her jaw and long fingers worked into her hair, his thumbs lightly resting on her cheeks. Cort jumped, then caught herself and stilled, watching his chalky eyes move over her face. She closed her own and tilted her head back as his fingers started to move like they had last night, slowly and deliberately raking through her hair and down, finally tracing over her throat. Opening her eyes when he paused, massive hands stilled at the base of her neck, Cort found him looking down at her hesitantly. She swallowed, feeling her skin press out against his thumbs where they rested.

"What, Charon?"

"Am I...am I doing it wrong?"

Cort looked into his worried face and sighed. _Oh, no, it's right, so right. Oh God, what am I going to do about this. Christ, HE should know more about this than I do, he's at least four times my age...oh, oh God._ Swallowing again she answered, her voice roughening. "No, you're not doing it wrong."

Immediately Charon resumed his actions, fingertips stroking behind her ears before thrusting his hands back up into her hair, gently tugging at it as he stared at her intently. Cort made a soft hitching noise somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, and giving her a pained expression, Charon stopped his movements again. "Then why are you unhappy."

"I'm not, Charon. I'm very happy." _Happy doesn't even begin to cover it. He's lighting me up like a Christmas tree, and I'm not even sure he gets it. _She focused her attention back on the ghoul. He was slowly taking his hands away, clearly not believing her and getting ready to disengage entirely._ Oh God, what am I doing to do about this...oh fuck it. What I _want_ to, that's what. The hell with it, the hell with all of it._ Cort placed her forehead against his chest and sighed as she slid her own hands up and around his sides where she could reach, working them around to push her fingers into the center of his back under the armoured spine protector. Grumbling and getting annoyed when her knuckles kept scraping against the strips of plating, she backed up and froze when Charon suddenly began unclipping the top portion of his armour, dropping it on the floor after he jerked it loose. She stayed still as he carefully did the same thing to hers, setting it next to his and then pulling her back.

"There." Having taken her frustrated movements and sounds as an unspoken set of commands, Charon had followed them. He started moving his hands over Cort's body where she had indicated with his own, slowly and carefully pressing his fingers in around the base of her spine. Grunting contentedly when she brought her arms back up and hugged him hard against her, he began stroking over the grooves and planes of her back as she did the same to his. This felt much, _much_ better. She wasn't irradiated but was still feeling warmer every second, her breath wonderfully hot against his ruined chest even with the shirt in the way. Still not understanding what was going on inside of himself, he was reassured by the fact that Cort knew exactly what to do and was showing him. Charon smiled slightly, rubbing around her sides and searching for each rib in turn. _Of course she fucking would, shithead. She's your employer._

Cort weirdly felt like she had the day she lost her hair. Heat was exploding up her in a wild flush as the ghoul moved his fingers higher, only increasing the burning sensation as he repeated the motions over and over, and she was definitely starting to feel like making some noise. She twisted her hands around on his back, fisting his shirt up in both of them as she leaned in. Dragging in the leathery and wet copper scent of him, Cort started taking in long, measured breaths to get more of it. Charon frowned, remembering this from the night before, not wanting to stop but realizing he had to for her if she was tired.

"You're getting sleepy. We should go back downstairs, there's a lot to do tomorrow." He paused. "You're a fucking idiot when you're tired."

Cort groaned in protest, cutting it off when recent memory hit her. Downstairs. Dad was downstairs. _Oh, good God_. Definitely not sleepy, but willing to take his misunderstanding as an excuse to end the mortification she was now feeling, she reluctantly pulled away and started picking up her armour. "Yeah, okay." Clattering down the stairs with him following behind, Cort thought about what it was she wanted to do next. She was involved with someone. At some point, she wasn't sure quite when, gradually or all at once, she had ended up getting involved with _Charon._ Abrasive, abusive, violent, morose,_ fussy _Charon. Cort pondered on whether or not it was a good idea to become emotionally attached to the ghoul.

Pausing inside the Vault entryway, she chastised herself. _Romantically attached, you moron, you were emotionally attached the moment you heard his story. 'To thine own self be true' and all that bullshit if you're going to try and figure out something this important_. Fumbling with her armour, Cort jabbed a series of buttons to lock the door up again for the night, then skirted around one of the Robobrains whirring by. Making a mental note to search the rest of 112 for supplies before leaving in the morning, she continued her brooding as they went back up to the catwalk and quietly into the first room. Re-locking the door here and turning around, she stared at her father. James was now sleeping with Dogmeat next to him, both in exactly the same position. Cort blinked a few times and gave her head a shake, then moved to get ready for bed. _He spent way too much time in there with the wrong genome._

Removing the last of her armour and sitting down on the floor to take off her boots, she surreptitiously watched Charon remove his own and neatly pile everything together from where she had scattered it. She couldn't remember when he had started looking after all of their armour, but he did. He also made sure she ate, and slept, and did all kinds of other little things to look after her. He had started taking care of Dogmeat as well, even if he still couldn't figure out when the dog wanted his ears rubbed. Cort smiled. The animal had tried everything short of writing him a note that said 'scratch here, stupid'.

Cort smiled again. It was pretty silly if Charon could figure out how to rub _her _behind the ears by watching the dog and not- _Oh. Right. That._ She swallowed heavily. They had been touching each other for practically as long as they had been together with increasing frequency and ease, getting to the point where it was nothing more than a matter-of-fact behaviour for either of them. Cort had found all of it entirely platonic up until what she was now referring to as 'the Petting Incident', when it had taken a decidedly different turn. _Turned into turned _on_, to be precise. Very, extremely, wonderfully, _ragingly-_okay holy Christ, down girl. Jeeze._ Cort tipped over on her right side and pressed her temple against the cold metal floor, dearly needing to drain some of the heat out of herself. Tucking her hands between her knees, she softly clunked her head around, trying to find the best position for it. She was interrupted a moment later when Charon dropped behind her and neatly placed his right arm between her head and the floor, wrapping the other around her waist.

_Oh crap. Crapcrapcrap._ Cort frantically tried to decide what to do as the ghoul pulled her in closer, his breathing making it obvious he was starting to drift off. She had two options as she saw it; push him away now and explain why he couldn't do that anymore or wait until he was entirely asleep and slip loose of him. She was working out which one would be the best course of action to take when Charon bent his right hand back and loosely tangled his fingers into her hair. Cort sighed and closed her eyes, stretching her legs out as she wrapped her left hand around his.

_Fuck it. I'm not going to push him away, I never have before. He wouldn't understand why unless I told him, especially after this evening's shenanigans, and if I told him he might think it's because I'm ashamed. Because of who or what he is. Fuck that shit. I'm not going to roll over for anyone ever again, not even Dad, no matter what he thinks. Which I'm totally going to find out what is really _really _shortly. _Deciding to cross that bridge when she came to it, Cort gave an experimental shrug. She was rewarded with a gentle squeeze and fingertips brushing her scalp. _Besides. I like it here._


	46. Old News

**Cort** needn't have worried, at least for the time being. James remained dead to the world until she shook him awake slightly after dawn. "Dad. Dad, wake up. I need some help getting past a security terminal. And yeah, breakfast and stuff. Dad. Dad. Dad. Da-James. JAMES." She jerked back as he sat up abruptly, wildly looking around. "Jeeze, jumpy. Come on, I need your help with something."

He stood up slowly, scratching at the side of his beard as he followed after Cort, sparing a glance towards the ghoul who appeared to be dressing the dog in a small set of armour and pouches. "I feel terrible."

She gave him a Gallic shrug then continued down the stairwell. "You're the one who wanted to start out early. Could've slept in the Lounger, it was squishier."

"No thank you, Cort. That isn't funny. Now what is it you're dragging me down to help you with?" James frowned. "Have you even eaten yet? You know you always forget."

She rolled her eyes to herself as they came into the big room and headed towards the far wall where a terminal was set next to a sealed door. "Yes, mother hen wouldn't let me do anything until I did."

He raised an eyebrow at her as she pulled the keyboard down. "Who?"

Absently starting to tap at the keys, she jerked her head back. "Charon. He always does that." She leaned up as he looked thoughtfully back up towards the catwalk, and pointed at the monitor. "That's where I got stuck, can you finish it? There's a lot of good stuff in there and I can't break the window."

Leaving his speculations aside for the moment, James leaned over and started poking around the keyboard. A moment later the door gave a click. "There, sweetie. You should have selected that option there and then this one, not the other way around." Cort clapped and darted into the room.

"Thank you, Daddy!" Hauling lockers open and quickly walking the room, she found a small but lovely cache of armour and weapons in pristine condition. "Look there's combat armour! And a laser rifle, assault rifle, ammo, grenades, medical supplies, _fantastic_." Riffling her fingers through the first aid box, she pulled out a handful of Stimpaks, Rad-X and Med-X, then flung an ampoule of Psycho over her shoulder, discarding it. "Go change into that armour, and then we can go after you eat."

"Yes honey." Smiling bemusedly at his daughter's authoritative tone, he grabbed it and headed up to the second room to change as Cort stuffed ammo and grenades into a pack from another locker, then snatched up the rifles and followed him upstairs. She was fiddling with a holotape in one hand as she came back in to see Charon.

"Presents!" Cort smiled and fished out several frag and pulse grenades, handing them to the ghoul as he stood up, then started loading both the rifles. "Found better weapons for Dad too, and some more supplies." Finishing, she clicked the holoptape into her Pip-Boy, then frowned. "I'll be right back, there's one more room I want to check."

Charon watched her leave then started re-arranging all three packs, depositing as much weight into the new one as he thought James would be capable of carrying without strain, swearing internally when the man himself came back into the room before Cort had returned. Charon wordlessly handed him the pack, watching him stuff his Vault suit into it. He started swearing to himself again as James started speaking to him.

"So. You've been taking care of my daughter?"

Charon straightened up and blandly looked back at James, who was staring intently at him. "Cort is my employer, and for good or ill, I serve her."

"And what precisely does that entail? Cort wasn't exactly forthcoming about the details when I asked her."

Charon scowled. There was no way he was going to discuss a personal matter like his contract with anyone else but his employer, especially after James had made it clear that she had clammed up about it. Getting a feeling of satisfaction from that, he schooled his face back into neutrality. "Talk to Cort."

"Well Charon, I want to talk to you."

_Oh that's fucking it_. He snarled at James, having had entirely enough of the man before even meeting him through dealing with Cort's unhappiness. "Well I _don't_ fucking want to talk to you, so unless she tells me otherwise, which she won't, you're shit out of luck."

He patiently responded to the ghoul, not breaking eye contact. "You have to understand my concerns. You're not exactly the first choice a father would make for his daughter to associate with."

"You didn't make the choice, _she_ did. If I fucking recall correctly, your _concern_ extended as far as leaving her blind in that shitting hole. She hired me to get to you after ending up fucking crippled in Underworld for half a month, and it's amazing she made it _that_ far. You're fucking lucky she found that mutt so quick, or fuck knows what else would have happened to her. Most Vault dwellers end up slaved out or offing themselves in the first few days, for fuck's sakes! Do you know how fucking close she came to that?"

James face hardened as he began to lose his temper, slashing his hands in front of himself and raising his voice. "Yes, I know. She told me as she did you that if it wasn't for the dog she would have shot _herself_ instead of her ear that first week. I am very, painfully well aware of the consequences of my failure to take her with me and do not need a reminder."

Charon's vision went completely and instantly white at James' unknowing verbal slip. All Cort had told him about finding Dogmeat and her ear was that she had had a collision with the raiders who had killed the dog's previous owner. Since she had hired him, there had been ample opportunity to observe how efficiently the animal slaughtered her opponents. When she had told him the mutt was the reason she was still alive at all, he had assumed she was referring to that. A red haze started to filter in over what he was seeing. The idea that Cort -beautiful, _valuable _Cort- had tried and nearly succeeded in eating her own gun over this abandoning bastard incensed him, and he clenched his hands.

* * *

**Cort** had wandered into the rest of the accessible area of the small Vault after discovering the holotape contained a password for the Overseeer's office. Padding through the halls and smoothly weaving through the Robobrains(she still wasn't sure where they had taken the resident's bodies, and honestly didn't _want_ to know, still depressed by the entire affair), she came up to the door she wanted and punched in the sequence. After it had opened, she walked into the dim room and discovered Braun in his own Tranquility Lounger, upright against the wall. Walking over, she stood on her tiptoes and leaned against it, smiling as she looked in at the ancient comatose man and rested her head against the glass.

"If you can hear me in there, just remember you're stuck forever. I'm going to leave your password holotape in here and re-lock the door, so even if anyone gets past the main Vault one, and trust me, they _won't_ after what I'm going to do to it, they'll never get to you. The only one who ever can is me. Little old me, in charge of _you_. And I'll be out _there_, with real people, living, eventually dying, while you'll be here for eternity dancing with your Communist friends." Cort grinned wider and impulsively licked the glass, then spun around to leave, throwing the holotape violently against one wall. Resealing the door, she trotted happily back to her companions, ready to depart.

Coming back in from her errand, she warily flicked her eyes from one man to the other, feeling the tension between them crackle up the back of her neck. Both James and Charon looked ready to throttle each other. _Oh, this is going to be a real fun time. I wonder which one of us will spontaneously combust first on the way back to the city._ She sighed and considered what to do as both of them jumped at the sound and turned to look at her, James instantly appearing to calm down. Asking what had happened would probably result in both of them winding up even farther, and Cort already had a fairly good idea that whatever it was involved her father trying to ask Charon things he didn't particularly want to talk about. Like anything at all. Walking over to her armour, she began strapping it on, starting with the plating on her legs first. "Charon, get your armour on too. _Charon_." He looked down at her, face unreadable before he complied.

"Cort, honey-" She cut him off, then deferred out of habit and a desire to balance everyone out.

"Sooo what way are we going to get back to Rivet City, Dad? Lead on and all that."

James gave her a knowing look and then settled his pack into place, taking up the laser rifle after settling the assault one on his back. "I came up from the south to avoid the raider encampment, and from what you told me about their recent movements, it would probably be wise to go back the same way."

"What's down there?"

"More of the same blasted landscape, basically. Nothing I can't handle with you along." Smiling to himself, he nodded towards the door, then they all headed back out into the Wasteland, Charon starting to get a bad feeling about where he thought their route would take them.

_Not near there. Please not near fucking there_.

* * *

**Charon** grudgingly admitted that Cort's father was at least competent in combat. Not nearly as quiet as any of them, either due to lack of motion or practice, he was sufficiently brutal enough to make up for it. The look in his face when he was fighting was a near mirror image of Cort's, a clinical intensity bordering on manic. If the ghoul had had any doubts over them being related, they would have departed after observing this. James setting a fast pace and having yet another fighter added to their party, they made it as far as Tenpenny Tower once evening had set in. Worried, Cort pulled her father back shortly before the sun went completely down as Charon nervously paced back and forth behind them.

"We're stopping. It's getting dark, and you look really washed out again." She glanced over at the ghoul, who hadn't taken his eyes off of the old hotel since it had appeared over the horizon. "Charon, what is it? What is that place?"

"That is Tenpenny Tower, and we don't want to get anywhere fucking near it. Definitely not on that side. We're too close already." Charon pointed to the eastern face of the building, almost completely black in the failing light. Cort stared at it, indignation coming over her features.

"_Tenpenny_. Wait, that's the sonofabitch Burke works for. He's the reason those Goddamned Talon Company assholes are after me!" She was distracted a moment later by James' tired voice, missing the startled jerk Charon gave at her words.

"Cortenay, what do we not do?" She winced and then rolled her eyes.

"We don't take the Lord's name in vain because Mom wouldn't like it. See, you _are_ worn out if you're choosing now to pick on my manners. And using my whole damned name." Looking grimly at him, Cort suppressed the fury rising up in her against Tenpenny and Burke for the moment. Nodding towards the east, she started walking towards a run-down old garage after spotting the tell-tale fake rocket dominating the front of it. "Look, we can stay there." She stopped when Charon spoke up a second later.

"No. You can see the door of that from the hotel. Go just past it, there's an old office building with a good second storey area that's easy to defend." Looking at him questioningly, Cort redirected herself towards the destination Charon had indicated, James trudging behind her. After eating, she signalled Dogmeat to stay with her sleeping father again, and after crossing the blasted concrete floor they had climbed up to sat next to the big ghoul. He was crouched in a cover position by one of the shattered windows, his helmet loosely clasped in one hand while he stared towards Tenpenny Tower. Upon entering he had stationed himself there, even eating in place when handed his supper. "So how do we get in there?"

Charon whipped his head around to look at her. "We don't. I told you, don't go anywhere fucking near it. Especially when it's fucking light out."

She frowned. "Why? Look, the bastard's trying to have me killed, it would be nice to go get him to _stop_ that. So all we have to do is-"

"No. I'm not going the fuck in there ever again."

Blinking, she tried to read his chalky eyes in the dark. Whatever the place was to him, it apparently came with a very unpleasant set of memories. She considered pushing the issue, then decided that it didn't really matter. If it was bothering him this much there was no way she was going to make it worse, so she would just have to take care of it herself since it was bothering _her_ just enough to want to go murder someone. _Sonofabitch sends fucking mercenaries after me for not doing his work. I'm going to send my silencer after his fucking _prostate_, is what I'm going to do. Then find it with a slug_. "Okay. More for me then." Cort got up and started to go back for her pack. "Keep watch on the others, and I'll be back by morning, probably."

"_No_!"

A second later she was sprawled on the floor in a complete state of shock. Charon had grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her to the ground. Her arm burned in the socket, and she brought up her other hand to rub at the joint. The ghoul still had a painful grip on her, and she pulled against his fingers, swearing. "That fucking _hurt_! What the hell is wrong with you? You're going to tell me what the fuck is up with that building and why I can't go kill that bastard right _now _or-"

"He was my last employer when I was still...when I wasn't _this_." Charon hung his head for a moment before looking up again, loosening his hand but not letting go of Cort. "It's why I know not to go the fuck around that building. Tenpenny likes to snipe anything he sees from his balcony, fucking animals, mutants, people. Anything for fucking shits and giggles, and he likes to let them crawl until they die. Unless things have changed, and I fucking _doubt_ it, it's also fortified to fuck with a lot of security. Probably a lot more of both by now."

Cort pulled her legs up, hissing at the bruises she could feel setting up shop on her hip as she scooted towards him. "So what happened."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Charon, you just slammed me onto the floor. Half my ass and one hip are probably turning black and blue as we speak, so thinking on that, give me a good reason why you're not going to spill the damn jellybeans already." The ghoul instantly let go of her and dropped his head back down again, mumbling quietly.

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Yeah well, you're big and hard and I'm small and soft." Cort closed her eyes briefly as the statement she had just made went somewhere interesting and entirely, desirably _wrong_. 'Never mind, I know you didn't mean to. It's okay. But please tell me why you did it anyway." When he failed to speak she shoved against him hard, unbalancing him enough for him to collapse into a sitting position, then crawled into his lap before he could recover. Twisting herself around to get comfortable on her battered hip, Charon brought his arms up around her waist once she had settled, their armour grating together. He removed her helmet a moment later and started tugging at her hair, running his rough fingers up under it. "Better?"

Rubbing a hand over her stomach, the ghoul felt the tension of the last few hours bleed out of him. "Yes." He spent a few minutes cuddling her for reassurance before continuing. "You've never asked, but I've been a fucking ghoul for fifty-seven years."

Cort shut her eyes, rested her head back against his chest and listened to him rasp out his history.

* * *

_Thanks for the new reviews folks! And don't worry, I don't plan on stopping this anytime soon, and I always post if I'm running off to do something else. ;)_


	47. Old History

**"I **was born a long damn time ago, obviously. I'm not sure when, it's like what I told you about working for that fucking pig Ahzrukhal. Sometimes I was too out of it to keep track, and that's happened a lot over the years, so my counting is probably off on all of it. I only know what I was told when my training was finished, or what my first fucking employer was told when they got rid of me. Them. I don't know if I freaked the people who made me the fuck out or what. Maybe I did. I hated all of them. I couldn't do anything as long as one of them held my contract, but when they decided to test transferring it, well. Loopholes." Charon smiled darkly to himself. "The one who let go of it went out like Ahzrukhal did. They nearly put me down then, but the head of the group wouldn't let them, and after that they were smart enough to give direct orders about not killing any of them after giving it up. I think the only reason I hadn't before is because I didn't know I could do it, and only did it at all because the one I killed had been the worst of them. He was the one responsible for most of my training."

Cort quietly piped up from under his chin. "What was that like?" Charon drew his brows together, letting a slow breath out of the ragged hole where his nose used to be.

"Fucking _training_. I don't like to think about it, I'd rather forget it. But I'll tell you anyway. A lot of it was like being stuck in that fucking bar. No sleep, interrupted sleep, not even being allowed to piss without someone's say so. But instead of Ahzrukhal's bitching, you got beaten if you fell asleep or if you didn't. Beaten if you couldn't hold it, or couldn't go. Instead of standing in a corner in some shithole, it was standing in a literal shithole, and beaten if I threw up from the stench. Or the sun, or a dust storm, what the fuck _ever_. In between all of that, skills training. Small arms. Stealth. Explosives. There's...there's a lot of stuff I don't remember, too. I don't think I'm supposed to. I don't remember why I have to obey, or want to. I just know I _need_ to. I don't know how long it was. They said I was 17 when they sold my contract to some kind of fucking broker, and I know I had just learned to read before they took me. But I don't know how old you are when that happens. I know I was very small."

He carefully tugged on Cort's hair again as she shifted, watching the strands of it catch on his ruined fingers in the dim light from the window. If he had managed to pull it too hard she hadn't complained, and so he brought her as close as their armour would allow and kept doing it.

"After that 'operational incident', they decided that there were flaws with my programming, but I was too big of an investment already to outright kill. I was a...prototype. I wasn't reproduced because apparently I was too much fucking work to go through to make, but they fucking finished me anyway because it was interesting to them and to recoup some of the expense. I was sold after being with the broker for a couple years, once he got tired of me and I'd been around long enough to get fucking popular with his regular clientele. That is the first and hopefully the _last_ fucking time I ever end up on a fucking auction block. The fucking shitstain thought it was funny, my makers had been careful to stress that I wasn't a slave, and didn't think of myself as one. 'Charon is a highly sophisticated and valuable tool, not chattel. You will treat him accordingly', they said. Big fucking surprise, he didn't. My next employer was head of a mercenary company. It wasn't the Talons, one of the ones around before them. That lasted for a few more years, I don't know how many. I got thrashed to fuck doing that job, but at least it was interesting. I got really fucking good at offing the difficult targets I was sent after. Like I said before, big but able to blend in. When I cared to. When I could."

Charon looked over as James rolled over near the far wall, freezing and staying silent until he was sure the man hadn't woken up and started listening to him. Relaxing after a moment, he turned his face back to the window and continued.

"Tenpenny hired the company I was working for to clear out that shitting hotel for him. He had just come over the Atlantic, and was carving a nice fat fucking place for himself out of the Wasteland. The leader of the company was ready to retire, and I was used as fucking payment to get in. Tenpenny was practically shitting himself, that thrilled to have me. Gave the bastard merc a penthouse when he found out just exactly how obedient I was, and it was a game to him to see what I would do. To myself and others. Then he got fucking bored and started that sniper rifle shit, which is how he got _interested_ in ghouls. I had to haul the first one back in after he shot the poor bastard so he could examine it. Then I had to bring them back alive. He wanted to see how they worked while they were still living, but of course _he_ wasn't going to fucking touch them, so I had to do it while he fucking _observed_. I think he started to really hate them when he found out they looked the exact same as normal people on the inside. The things I had to do to them so he could see that, I'm _not_ going to fucking tell you. Sometimes...sometimes I think this is my punishment for that."

He held one hand out, spreading the fingers and letting the weak light from the window fall over it, turning the remaining skin and raw muscle into a rough plane of desaturated blues and greys. He stared at it dully, hating the sight of it before a small and dirty white one reached up and laced its long fingers through his, almost disappearing in his larger grasp. Watching his ruined flesh hide hers away and hating himself, he pushed forward into the rest of his story.

"Fucking unsurprisingly, he eventually got bored with _that_, and decided he wanted to see how they were made. The residents weren't too keen on 'normal' people being held in radiation, but since I was a big silent fucker he used to intimidate all of them, nobody cared if he tried it on me. And I couldn't say no. After my skin started flaking off to the point where everyone noticed and demanded he do something 'about the vermin', he ordered me outside, then started shooting once he got back upstairs. Do you know what it's like, knowing some fuck is going to shoot you and you can't fucking try to get away until they actually _do_ it? I managed to crawl out of range after being shot a few times and made it to where we are now. That's how I know he could shoot you in front of the gas station, it's the last time he hit me. He sold my contract to a trader that came through the next day, and told him he would refund it if he found me dead. All he would need to do is bring back my head for his caps. There was still enough left of me to live when he found me."

Charon stopped and looked back down as Cort started squirming, speaking quietly to him again a second later.

"I need to move around a bit. My hip's starting to stiffen up."

The ghoul released her as she readjusted her small frame against his bigger one and then closed his eyes, cursing himself all over again for injuring her. _Fuck, she's wiping at her eyes. You really did a fucking number on her this time, you sack of shit_. "If you wish to punish me for injur-" She cut him off, her voice thick and emotional.

"I _don't_. You know that. Now keep going." Cort snuffled and jabbed at his ribs, and he glanced back down at her. She had turned around to the side and faced herself out towards the window, leaning against him for support with her hands in her lap. Charon closed his eyes again to block out the sight of how wet her face was getting and did as he was told.

"I wasn't with the trader for long, at least I don't think so. Fucker decided that he couldn't stand looking at me the worse I got, and sold my contract off to another merchant. I went through a lot of them over the years, some stationary, some not. The novelty wore off for most of those bastards when I started costing them business. _Apparently_, most people don't want to buy shit when there's a giant fucking _corpse_ hanging over the merchandise. The last one made regular trips into Underworld, and eventually lost my contract in a rigged poker game with Ahzrukhal. He was the first ghoul I had as an employer. I thought that meant it would be better for me. It wasn't. I just got what I fucking deserved for turning into this mess and thinking it _could_ be better." He sighed, stopping for a moment to reflect. "Not all of those scrubs down there were bad, but they were all too afraid of Ahzrukhal and then me to do anything about it once he started bragging and they found out why I was there. What I was. There's no way he would have let me be employed by another ghoul anyway. He probably thought they'd have me kill him after he let me go. They wouldn't have had to ask."

"I noticed." Both of them jerked when something suddenly rattled around outside. Getting up, they grabbed their guns and silently went back downstairs, Cort fiddling with her Pip-Boy as she held her repeater braced against her left hip. They made two complete circuits of the building looking for the source before finding the tin can that was blowing around the outside of the blasted foundation. Staring down, she delicately mashed it between two rocks with her foot before turning to Charon. "Of course. The mighty and vicious Pork N' Beans can. If it hadn't already been gutted by a roaming pack of wild Cram, we'd be in trouble."

Charon rolled his eyes. "You're fucking looped."

"Maybe." Cort smiled up at him and tugged at his shirt with her free hand as the wind pushed her hair back up into a crest, fluffing out the tangles he had twisted it into. "Let's go back inside." After taking one last look around, the ghoul followed her back into the shelter of the building, pausing next to one of the ruined walls when he got there.

"Shine your light over here." Carefully shielding her Pip-Boy from the outside, she came over and snapped the light on. There was an old, blackened stain sunk into the concrete, fading out into the dust drifted up to it. "That's where I was. I think I was thirty-one then." Cort stared at it as new tears escaped her and tracked down her face.

"Why don't we go kill him? We could do it, you know." She turned her light off and backed up a bit, not wanting to stare at the old blood worked into the wall any longer, or even risk seeing its shadow.

"He never comes out, and it's impossible to hit him from the ground. We'd get shot down trying to get in. We can't go anywhere near that gate with without them trying to kill me. Any ghoul would have to be a fucking _lunatic_ to try it, and Tenpenny's trying to have you offed as it is. If you went in there it would have to be by yourself, and you'd never come out. I don't know what he would do to you. I won't let...I don't _want_ you to go in there."

Cort snuffled and absently rubbed at her hip after slinging her repeater onto her back. "Yeah, I kind of noticed that." Charon winced as she did it.

"Look, you need to give me some kind of punishment. It's not the correct behaviour. I injured you. You're-you're fucking _crying_ for fuck's sakes." Cort looked at him oddly for a moment, her face unreadable in the starlight.

"I'm not crying over my leg."

"Then what the fuck is your major malfunction _this_ time?"

Exasperated, she snuffed back on her stuffy nose and halfheartedly snapped at him. "I'm crying _for_ you, you twit, not because of you."

What she had told him sinking in, Charon rolled his shoulders uncomfortably, the plating on them creaking with the motion. "I don't deserve those."

Cort laughed weakly, wiping at her face. "You go through all that and tell me you don't deserve me crying over you?" She sobered after a moment, watching Charon stare at the wall where the stain was, now hidden by the dark. "So do you think it's better for you now? With me, I mean?" He nodded. "You think you deserve any of that?" A rapid shake, and she was puzzled. Anyone who went through that amount of hell deserved _some_ kind of happiness in return to make up for it. "Why not?"

The ghoul spread his arms out and came over towards her, suddenly almost on the verge of screaming, his boots kicking pebbles up against her shin guards as he advanced. "Fucking _look_ at me and ask yourself that, ask yourself what you fucking see and what I _should_ deserve for what I've done. What something like me should _get_. Brainwashed slave, robot, murderer, failed experiment? Rotface, walking corpse, flesh sucker, monster, braineater? I've fucking heard them all Cort, don't think I fucking haven't, so just go ahead and fucking _tell me _what you_ fucking see_!" She planted her feet and looked up at him warily as he leaned over her, his arms still outstretched, one hand clenched tightly around the barrel of his shotgun while the other was hauled back in a fist. His eyes danced over her face as he waited for her to finally say something that would end all of it for him, prove that he had been an idiot for daring to be happy again, that she was like all of those who came before her. Charon waited to hear what he thought he deserved.

"I see somebody I want, remember? I see you." Cort staggered as Charon dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face against her plated chest and starting to shudder as all his memories overwhelmed him at once. She stared down at the top of his head, wide-eyed, before lacing her hands gently over the back of his neck and hugging him back. He crushed her against him painfully when she did so and shook even harder, almost lifting her entirely off the ground with his movements. She stood there holding and being held for a long time, bewildered, scared, and not knowing what to say or how to say it as he quietly wore himself out. Eventually his frantic grasping turned into tired stroking and she took it as a sign he was starting to come out of it. Leaning her head forward, she spoke softly down to him. "Better now?"

He muffled out a response against her armour. "I don't _fucking_ know." She let herself slide downwards, coming to rest on her own knees against him. Cort wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her hot cheek up against his cooler one, letting out a long sigh.

"How about now."

"...Yes." He let his arms fall and leaned against her, Cort arching her back and digging her knees into the rubble-strewn floor, straining to support him as he buried his face against her neck. She left him there for a few moments, speaking up only when her legs finally started to give out from his weight.

"Think we can go get some sleep now? Then we can wake up faster and _never_ fucking come back here again." Charon reached up and tugged at her hair, sighing out an answer while Cort promised herself she would make up for the lie she had just told him later. _It's not really a lie if it's only me coming back. It really isn't._

"Yes fucking _please_." Hauling themselves up, they trudged back upstairs to the corner they had vacated earlier, Charon motioning to Cort to sleep first. After they had sat down against the wall, she curled up against his right leg, pillowing her face on it as he tucked an arm around her waist.

"Charon?"

"What, Cort."

"How old do you think you are right now?" The ghoul counted quietly to himself, feeling the comforting movement of her breathing against his hand.

"No less than eighty-eight, but I don't think over a hundred yet."

She paused, processing the numbers against her own age before asking one last question. "So do you remember anything from before...before they took you?"

Charon looked into the distance, his unfocused gaze going farther back than anything Cort could ever see.

"Her eyes were green, and she was kind."


	48. Why Don't You Stay For Supper

_Thanks so much for the new reviews! It's so nice to know you guys are enjoying my story. :)_

* * *

**Cort** let everyone sleep until just before the sun came up, judging that the shape of the office building would hide them for a small distance and the rising sun would blind anyone trying to take a shot at them from the west. Waking James up first to give him time to loosen up, she handed him something to eat. After feeding Dogmeat, she went back to the window, having promised Charon to keep watching through it.

"Is there something wrong honey?" James took in the grim lines in his daughter's face and frowned, slowly working his way through his food and stretching out stiffened muscles.

"No Dad. It was just a long night. Think maybe the next one you can handle a watch?" Cort reached down and gently started patting Charon on the arm as she spoke, rousing him within a few seconds. The ghoul wordlessly rose and carefully made his way over to his own pack to dig out something to eat. James watched him retrieve two boxes of Mac N' Cheese, silently handing one to Cort after he had opened it for her, nudging the corner into her arm until she took it.

"I'm old sweetheart, but I'm not _that_ old. Of course I can. Just wake me up earlier next time."

"Thanks Daddy. We can go once everybody's finished."

Except for Dogmeat, everyone was poorly rested for various reasons, and their second day heading back towards Rivet City was more difficult than the first. Part of it was due to fatigue, and the rest because there were a larger amount of raiders around than there had been the first time James had moved through. They were bogged down for hours in standoffs at both a cave and an old drive in theater, the former made worse by the sudden eruption of a group of Yao Guai and the latter after one of the raiders had inadvertently turned into a suicide bomber by holding onto a frag grenade for too long next to one of the abandoned cars. All of them had ended up with shrapnel buried in various parts of them from that encounter, and Cort and James had run through a substantial amount of their medical supplies by the time they were ready to move on.

Trudging down one of the old abandoned highways, they came around a rise next to a small cluster of houses and finally caught view of the shattered remains of DC in the fading light. Cort wearily raised her Pip-Boy. "Finally. We should be able to get to Rivet City sometime tomorrow evening."

James came up beside her a moment later and gave her a one-armed hug. "No arguments from me, sweetheart. I think we've had a long enough day."

Cort leaned against her father, stifling a yawn. "Long enough day with more than enough crazy fuuhh-_buggers_ trying to cut us into bits. I _hate_ raiders. Hate." Watching Dogmeat meander around sniffing for a place to go, she turned to look at the houses. "Maybe we can sleep in one of them. Once we get closer to the city there'll probably be too much of a mess to clean out of any of the good places to stay."

Pushing herself forward, she made her way down the hill, James and Charon close behind. Cort froze when one of the doors opened, warily raising her repeater and then dropping it down again when an unarmed woman in dirty pre-war clothing came out and waved to them cheerily.

"Well hey there! Welcome to Andale, the best little place on earth. Would you folks like to stay for our supper?"

* * *

**Cort** was tired of hanging around. _I'm fucking literally tired of hanging around, oh God. Oh God, help us. And if you won't, the hell with you, I'll do it myself...somehow._ Staring at Charon and her father tethered against the wall, she thought back to how she had ended up here.

Both James and his daughter had stupidly walked up to greet the woman, politely placing their weapons away to do so, disarmed in more ways than one by her attitude. Charon had retained his and hung back, not liking the look of the place whatsoever. His suspicions were confirmed a moment later when an older man ran out of a dilapidated ranch house, yelling at them to run. The cheery woman had spun in place, hands on her hips and scolding.

"Oh, Mister _Harris_, there you go being difficult again and ruining any social time we could've had with our guests." Distracted by the yelling senior, Cort had time to see a blur of red plaid erupt out from behind the woman before one of her arms was painfully twisted behind her and a scoped .44 magnum was rammed viciously up under her jaw.

"Oh now Linda honey, I know it's a disappointment, but at least he made a good distraction. And no you don't, naughty naughty! You just keep your hands away from those rifles on your back, and you, big tall and ugly, you can put yours down." James looking positively murderous, he dropped his hands down as another man in a sweater vest appeared out of nowhere to place a sawed off shotgun against the back of his head.

"No fucking way. You let them both the fuck go, before I take your motherfucking bald head off, sunshine." Charon had started sprinting towards them the instant the old man had come out kicking up a fuss, skidding to a halt and cursing violently when Cort had been grabbed. "You can let my girl go _now_ or I'll blow the chipper bitch to pieces." The ghoul trained his combat shotgun towards the blonde woman in the pink dress who had drawn the two smoothskins in. He snarled as the man holding Cort cocked the pistol.

"Now you don't talk about my wife like that, it's not gentlemanly! You fire on the little woman and the top of this one's head will come off. And there's no way you're going to get _me_ without turning the little Miss into a _paste_. Honey, go on over and take that scattergun away from him, I'm sure he'll cooperate in a second." Brutally ramming the barrel harder up under her jaw, Cort screamed in response, then shrieked when the man in the vest cracked the butt of his gun against James' skull when he started to lunge for his daughter, crumpling into a pile at her feet.

"_Daddy_!" She was cut off by another vicious thrust of the .44.

The man in the vest grinned up past her, wiping the blood off the butt of the gun back onto James before pointing it towards Charon. "Well looky Jack, aren't we lucky! Family for dinner!" He paused and moved his aim towards the left. "Even got an appetizer!" Firing, Cort heard an anguished yelp and then screamed for her dog.

"_Dogmeat RUN_!" This time her arm was nearly wrenched out of the socket in addition to the gun's jab, the sight now causing a runnel of blood to pour down her neck where it had torn into the skin.

"Don't worry Bill, we'll get him later. For now, we've got these folks, and it's been forever since we've had company. Now, down to business. Linda honey, if you wouldn't mind?"

The woman sauntered over to Charon, pink skirt swaying, holding one hand out for his gun. He gave it to her after a moment, not taking his glassy eyes off of his employer. "I'm going to fucking slaughter every last one of you."

Charon's words were the last thing Cort heard before something hard struck the back of her head and sent her into the black.

* * *

**She** woke up dizzy as hell in a charnel house, hanging from the ceiling by her wrists and stripped to her skivvies. "Oh, what the fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh fuck oh _fuckohfuck_." Blinking to adjust her eyes in the dim light cast by a battered lantern, Cort saw gore everywhere. The entire interior of the metal shed she was in was painted in splotches of red and older brown, pieces of what she could unfortunately correctly identify as people spread out in various butchered states on the equally stained counters. A second later she realized the reason for her vertigo as Jack jabbed her side, making her spin around again. Crazy shadows danced around the walls as she moved.

"See Bill, told you she'd wake up eventually!" the bald man in the red plaid was pushing at her with the handle of a butcher knife, smiling over at the blonde man in the vest.

"You fucking dickless sacks of shit, let me the _FUCK DOWN FROM HERE_! I'm going to peel your fucking _testicles_ open like fucking _grapes_ a-" Cort nearly threw up when Jack's fist rammed into her stomach, then did retch when a filthy wad of cloth was shoved into her gasping mouth. From somewhere nearby there was a violent set of thumps sounding in counterpoint to her gagging.

"Now now, we left your mouth loose so we could have some fun with the screaming, but no more if you're going to be rude. Young women today, no respect for the men folk, am I right Bill?"

"That's right Jack. But don't worry, I think those two will still be able to hear her well enough."

Trying to blink her tearing eyes clear as she snorted bile out of her nose, Cort looked down against the far wall where Charon and her father were trussed and gagged, each tied to a different post set into the packed earth. The thumping noise was coming from the ghoul, who was still thrashing around violently, a stream of what could only be threats and profanity issuing out of him. James was sitting calmly and observing each man in turn, both of them unable to look at his empty eyes for long as he etched every detail of their faces into his mind. He looked reassuringly at Cort for a moment before returning his homicidal stare back to Jack and Bill.

"Sure thing Bill, and they'll definitely be able to see. Gee, Miss, and I'm glad you folks stopped by. You're in fine young condition, and with dear old Dad there, we'll get one hell of a show out of carving you up." Jack looked over to James, unconsciously moving his eyes again to get away from what he saw there.

"Oh, I don't know Jack, the ghoul seems to be kicking up more of a fuss than he is. Think the shuffler's sweet on the girl?" Charon positively raged against his restraints, bellowing through the rag stuffed into his face.

"Well even better if he is Bill, he was awfully rude to Linda. No manners in today's world, shame, isn't it? Let's just see how much water your little theory holds." Jack stopped Cort from her lazy spinning and started slicing.

* * *

**Dogmeat** crept out of the ditch he had been hiding in, impatiently waiting while the men pulled his world and the other moons away into a reeking shed. The shotgun blast had caught him up one side and half of his head was stinging from where the spray had struck him, small beads of it in his chest stoking the rage fueling his temper up even higher. Having to find somewhere to relieve himself, he had left his world with the other moons in the belief that they could handle her care for the moment, and the dog couldn't decide if he was more furious with them or himself.

Skating through the dark he came to the shed, snuffling quietly around the edges and pushing experimentally against the door. It was tight. Jamming his nose down to the crack at the bottom he carefully inhaled, swiveling both his ears to the front as he did so. All of them were in there, and as far as he could tell the rest of his odd little pack was intact, if restrained. The big moon was going completely berserk, making the ground vibrate under his paws. Dogmeat sat back again and stared at the door, suppressing a rumble rising up in his chest. The others still had weapons, and were behind a door. Doors were usually dangerous, something always snatching out when you couldn't see. Looking up at the handle, he dismissed it almost immediately. If the bad ones heard him and opened it, his neck would be spread out for them to rip into. Just barking at it would let them know it was him after his world. Digging his claws into the earth, the animal let the simple but exceedingly fine wheels turn over in his head. They clicked into place when Dogmeat remembered the other woman.

That was good then, _very_ good. If he couldn't get to _his_ world, he would take the _others'_ moons. That would get their attention, especially with the noises he was going to get them to make. Dogmeat kicked up and broke into a run as he heard Cort start to yell.

* * *

**"Well **Bill, she's surprised me. Little lady isn't making nearly as much noise as I had hoped for, but you were right about the ghoul."

Cort was missing a few thin strips out of one thigh, her legs tied down with a heavy rock after solidly landing a kick into Jack when he had started cutting. She stared down at him murderously, high on pain she found no worse than what Barrows had done to her a few weeks before. What _was_ worse was the fact that she wasn't regenerating it, although she supposed not growing endless flesh in front of the cannibals was a good thing, no matter how much was currently missing. Worse than _that_ was the disgusting, horrifying fact that they were _eating_ what they were cutting out as soon as it was loose._ Yeah them knowing I can grow it back would be fucking fantastic. Hey folks! A perpetual smorgasbord of Cort! Maybe they could eat more of me and then get radiation sickness off it and die. Slowest murder ever, mine and theirs_. She brayed wildly through her gag at the thought, snorting on the inhales.

"Well Jack, looks like she's having a laugh at our expense over something. Let's see if we can't find out what's so funny."

_Fat fucking chance with a gag in me, asshole._ Cort squinted and laughed even harder as Bill took the knife and sliced down her other leg, the chimes in her head starting to fill up her ears, clearing out again when he stopped.

"Don't think we can, Bill, and I'm not going to loose that trap of hers to find out. What's say we see how amusing she finds it when we take some pieces out of her fellas, there?" Jack smiled as she sobered immediately, flicking her eyes back and forth. "Yessiree, there's the ticket. Now we can either start with dear Dad, or the walking jerky. I ever tell you how great ghoul flesh is, Bill? Already preserved practically, and once you get some radiation around, why, it's just an endless supply until you just get plumb sick of it. Why, we can eat off one that size for months!"

"I think I do recall, Jack. And look! That got her motor revving." Both of them turned around and started towards Charon, who had backed up against the wall, letting out a rippling, guttural snarl as they approached. James rotated slowly in place to keep facing the two as they went after the ghoul.

Cort had been flailing wildly since Jack's last words, straining to pull herself up against the dragging weight of the rock and making the blood on her thighs pour out in new freshets. _Fuck no, fuck I was right, God no, please God, don't let that happen to him, answer me you FUCKING BASTARD!_ She broke out into a crazy grin when she heard another, wonderfully familiar snarl from somewhere outside, overridden by a woman shrieking.

"_Jaaaack_!" Both Jack and Bill's heads whipped around towards the door, Jack nodding to Bill as he grabbed up his .44 pistol and left.

* * *

**"Linda**? Linda, where are you?"

Dogmeat tore out the woman's throat as he heard one of the others coming towards him, leaving her gurgling on the dirt. It had been fantastically easy to get her out, whining on the doorstep and acting crippled. He had snapped his mouth around her wrist the instant she opened the door, pulling her out and crushing it to make her scream. Licking the hot blood off his muzzle, he silently peeled off around the edge of the house, loping through the darkness to approach his next target from behind. These others were foolish. They wore nothing to protect themselves as his world and her moons did -including him, and he took a split second to feel proud of his own odd covering- and were easy enough to pull down as a result. The weapons were inconsequential as long as he never gave them the chance to use them, and he wasn't planning on allowing it this time.

"_Linda_!" Dogmeat hit him from behind without giving warning as he kneeled over the woman's bubbling corpse. He laid the back of the man's neck open before he could be thrown off, who screeched even higher than the woman had. The dog snapped his teeth together again to cut it off, easy as catching radroaches for his world. A boy came out of the house yelling, and Dogmeat bellowed into the child's face, bloody saliva flicking out of his mouth and splashing against his striped shirt. Snorting dismissively as the kid shrieked and ran, he trotted on to the building that smelled like the one who had shot him. His element of surprise most likely blown, this time he had a different plan of attack.

* * *

**Cort** laughed and attempted to clap her hands together from where they were strung up, staring at Bill.

"'Ack's _EAD_, 'ill. My 'aby'th 'inging th'm all 'own, oo 'ucking _'athole_."

"Now, you shut your whore mouth right now, missy. We'll be done with you soon enough after Jack gets back from putting down that mongrel of yours." A second later, Jack screamed and Cort laughed even harder, starting to choke on the gag again as a roaring bellow sounded from somewhere outside.

James stared at Charon to get his attention, then started mimicking his daughter, the sounds he was making eerily similar, if of a different pitch. Bill spun towards him, brandishing Jack's discarded knife and losing his temper.

"You damn well better quit it, you piece of meat. You quit it _right NOW or_-" Charon snapped his long legs out and landed a solid kick with both feet against one of Bill's ankles as he advanced, the joint making a crunching noise before it gave out. James instantly wrapped his own legs around the man's neck as he crashed to the ground, squeezing as the ghoul pummeled the heels of his boots into Bill's chest over and over, starting to produce wet breaking sounds. Bill had time to hear his own wife Martha shriek right after glass had shattered somewhere, before James finally snapped his neck.

* * *

**Ignoring** the last house since the occupant hiding there had correctly tried to warn his world, Dogmeat sprinted back to the shed, ready to tear into the one who had shot him and rip him apart. The woman at his place had been similarly easy to eliminate, a combat knife she had had time to grab skittering off his plating without leaving a scratch. The dog had nearly gnawed her head clean off before jumping back out through the window he had exploded through, ignoring a screaming girl on the stairs.

Riding on a vicious high the dog accelerated even further, crashing his shoulder directly into the door to the shed. Battering it partway open after another assault, he sprang back off the ground and forced his way through the bent metal sheeting in time to see the other moons finishing the last one off. Snarling, he stalked over and pulled the body away as they released it, then proceeded to savage the corpse apart as his world whooped and cheered from her odd location above him. Dogmeat grinned up at her with loose strips of flesh dangling from his teeth as bloody froth dripped from his face, then returned to his work as she smiled down at him, making muffled but familiar sounds. He was still _best_.


	49. You Know What That Means, Right

_Haha awesome, thanks for the new reviews! Ace on replaying F3 for those of you who are, gotta do something until New Vegas comes out. ;)  
_

* * *

**Charon** had managed to get a hold of the knife Bill had dropped when he hit the floor, and cut both himself and James free before moving towards his employer, the dog at her feet continuing to fling gobbets of the dead man everywhere. Being the stronger of the two of them, the ghoul lifted Cort up off of the hook she was hanging from after her father had untied the ropes around her ankles. Having more Stimpaks than glowing water and not entirely comfortable with the idea of irradiating his daughter on purpose no matter what the result was, James used them on Cort, shaking his head and swearing at himself as he watched the thin holes fill in.

"Stupid, stupid stupid. Too much time in that bullshit Vault and depending on niceties."

Charon considered chipping in to share his thoughts about their previous blinding idiocy and then decided it wouldn't help matters, moving instead to stand at the door in case there was anyone else left to kill. Dogmeat discarded the remains of Bill and came over to lick the vomit off of Cort's face and neck, who totally ignored the gore all over him and hugged the dog to her. "Who's Momma's best boy, huh?" She watched James for a moment, her eyes starting to glaze over as he hurriedly gathered their things together from around the shed, bringing his daughter's clothing back to her as soon as everything was assembled. Thinning his lips at the sight of her, he nudged the dog away and carefully wiped the cannibal's blood from the side of her face and arms with the hem of his own shirt.

"Here Cort. Get yourself together and we can get out of here, honey." Staring up at him blankly, she looked back around the room, searching for something.

"They were eating. They were eating me. They _ate_ me. They ate _me_." Cort looked over at the remains of Bill, literally flayed open by Dogmeat's attentions. She pointed to the gaping hole in his torso, speaking in an eerily conversational tone. "I think that _is_ me. Hold on, I have to put it back in first." James instantly dropped what he was holding and lunged for her as she moved, grabbing her by the waist before she could get her hands inside the corpse.

"Charon! Drag the body outside, hurry. Hide it from her." Cort struggled, starting to pull him across the dirt floor with her as the ghoul dashed over and started rapidly throwing the pieces outside into the dark, Dogmeat starting to help him a second later. "Sweetheart, look down at your leg, just look at your leg, not up. It's all there. There's nothing missing anymore. Look at it for Daddy please, like a good girl."

"Okay." She obediently tilted her head down, and James took one of her hands and put it over the healed tissue.

"See honey? It's all there. Never gone."

She frowned, pushing at the new scars laced on top of the old ones. "But those two-"

"They're gone now too, Cort. Dogmeat was a good boy, remember?"

She absently corrected him, stroking her fingers over her leg. "_Best_ boy."

"Yes sweetie, the _very_ best. Now we're going to get you dressed so we can all get out of here, all right?" James quickly and quietly started putting her clothes back on her, Cort slowly starting to help him after a moment. They were finishing up with her armour when Charon and the dog came back in, the animal now mouthing Jack's pistol after retrieving it as a prize. James took it away and shoved it into a pocket on the dog's armour after petting him on the head. "We're getting out of here, now, before she goes any farther into shock."

"No fucking arguments from me." Charon shouldered both Cort's pack and his own, then followed behind the pair of them, her father gently nudging her in the direction they needed to go.

After walking for an hour, James decided to stop when they reached a deep gully covered with blasted trees, the sheltered depths hidden almost entirely from view. He gently pushed Cort down after setting his pack in place for her to lean against. "Go to sleep, honey."

"Can't sleep. They'll eat me." She flicked her eyes around while clenching her hands into fists, not seeing her father next to her as she looked for imagined threats. A voice rasped out above her as she did so.

"No they won't, Cort. I'll fucking blow them apart first. Splatter them _everywhere_ for you." Charon came over and gently removed her helmet after kneeling beside her father, then ran a hand through her hair, ignoring James as he stared at him. "Won't I." Her eyes started to focus in on the ghoul as he rubbed behind her intact ear, the panic draining out of them in response to the caress.

"Yes."

"That means you can go to sleep then, doesn't it. Go to sleep, Cort."

"Okay." She slowly slumped back and pulled Dogmeat into her as he came over, Charon continuing to stroke the back of her head and neck as she started to do the same to the dog. Within moments, Cort was snoring.

"Thank _fuck_. That usually takes longer." Pulling off the packs he was carrying, he removed both their blankets and tucked them around her, covering up as much as possible.

"I expect she's more tired out than normal after that..._unique_ experience." Charon glanced up at James, who was now looking at him with a strange sort of gravity. "I think we need to have a talk, whether you would like to or not. _Now_."

Not willing to start another shouting match that might rouse his employer, he gave in. "...Fine." Charon motioned to the mouth of the gully, James taking note as he placed a hand back onto Cort's hair and stroked it before leaving. Once they had stationed themselves to watch over the landscape and moved far enough away to ensure she wouldn't wake because of their voices, her father started his interrogation. The first question completely baffled the ghoul.

"Tell me Charon, and please be honest. Are you sleeping with my daughter?"

Charon blinked at the odd query and then answered plainly, keeping his language toned down to where he thought Cort would want it. "Occasionally, when we can find a secure enough location to do so." Of _course_ they had slept together. Anywhere it was safe enough to go to sleep without taking up a watch was taken advantage of, the opportunities for a full night's rest being a rarity. They had all done that the night before leaving Vault 112, although admittedly her father hadn't been awake long enough to know it. He watched as James sighed heavily and rapidly ran both hands over his face before looking back to him, the gravity now replaced by a deep-seated weariness.

"Too late then. And just exactly which _one_ of you initiated that?"

He thought back to their first night together, when Cort had instructed him to sleep after barricading them into one of the abandoned Metro's rooms, and subsequent occasions thereafter. For that matter, she usually always decided where they would sleep as well as how, as was proper for her dominant position. "She did. She always does, it's her decision to make, not mine." James spoke up again after a moment, almost to himself for the first half of it and sounding weirdly like Cort herself.

"Aren't _you_ just a rarity. So tell me, and think very hard about your answer before you give it. What does my daughter mean to you?"

Charon wasn't sure why he would have to think about it that hard. The first question had been more difficult compared to this, and he gave his answer almost instantly back to James after being asked for it. "Cort means everything to me. She's the most important thing in my life."

Staring intently at the other man, James tried to decide if he was being sincere or not, grudgingly settling upon the former. "Charon, I don't know if she ever told you, but her mother and I started our lives out here. I am well aware that ghouls are exactly the same inside as the average person, albeit with some unique physical characteristics." James ignored the other man's snort and continued. "Cort has obviously managed to come to the same conclusion on her own, even without previous knowledge of your kind. In one way it's all I could have hoped for, having raised her to be accepting of others. _However_. That does not preclude me from being upset over my little girl becoming involved with a violent, dangerous man, particularly one that will expose her to the hates and prejudices of others. People will try to kill her for being close with you."

Charon snorted again, looking at him derisively as he misinterpreted the statement as a criticism on combat strategy. "People try to kill her for waking the fuck _up_ in the morning. I'm not going to make it easier for them by going farther away from her."

'And if I impressed upon you the need to do so? To leave entirely?" The ghoul stared over at James, his expression clearly stating he thought the man had gone crazy.

"You _can't_. She's the only one that can ever tell me to leave and she won't. She wants me." James rubbed his face again, getting ready to protest the ghoul's claim before he continued speaking. "She's the only one who's ever wanted me." Charon watched as the other man shut his eyes in a painful expression and pinched the bridge of his nose while making a low grumbling noise. Lacing both hands over the back of his neck when it stopped, he looked back over.

"Cort has _told_ you she wants you?"

"Yes."

"Do you want her?"

Charon gave him the same 'have you lost your mind completely' stare as before. "Of _course_. More than anything."

James dropped his hands and looked up to the sky, seeming to search for something in the starred expanse. Charon patiently waited for the next question as the minutes dragged out, using the time to wonder how he was going to make up for the level of harm he had allowed to come to Cort today because of his inability to protect her.

"Will you ever harm my daughter? In any way?" The ghoul suppressed a startled jerk just in time, surprised by the sudden query so close to his own line of thought. Unwilling to admit to his own failures and feeling guilt over the bruises that had been all too evident on her hip earlier, he responded in a way that hid behind the leeway afforded by the past tense nature of his offences. There was also the fact that he technically did not have to answer to James for anything in the first place.

"I will never harm her." _Again. Never fucking again._

"Do you love her?"

He paused before responding and thought hard about his answer this time. Charon wasn't entirely sure what the term meant, but he had heard Carol use it in what seemed like a positive manner on more than one occasion over the years, and Cort seemed happy when she said it to the damned _dog_, so he decided to agree with James. He could always ask Cort for clarification later, since unsurprisingly no-one had bothered to explain the concept to him previously. _Fuck, _she_ will. She always knows the answers to weird fucking questions_. "Yes, I do."

James sighed again, still looking up at the sky, and was silent for a long while. "Why don't you go get some rest. It will probably be another long day for us tomorrow, and I have a lot to think about before I can sleep. I'll wake you when it's your turn." Charon nodded in relieved agreement and turned to go just as Cort's father slowly reached up one hand to trace out patterns in the stars.

Placing his own pack next to Cort to lean on, the ghoul spread himself out next to her blanket-shrouded form and crossed his arms. Thoroughly and completely worn out by the odd conversation, having only compounded the stressful nature of the day he had had, he shut his eyes and worked his way as rapidly down into sleep as he could.

* * *

**By** the time Cort woke up it was near to mid-morning, and James had exchanged places with Charon, both of them having decided that letting her sleep herself out was the best course of action. Fuzzily looking around and flipping the blankets over onto her sleeping father, she staggered to her feet and made her way up the side of the gully, uncomfortable and desperately needing to find a bush. Emerging a few minutes later, she walked over to her pack for an apple and something to drink before wandering over to where Charon was keeping watch and croaked out a greeting.

"G'morning."

"Got your fucking marbles back?" She squinted into the sunlight and made a face up at him as he reached over and looped an arm around her waist, balancing the barrel of his shotgun over the other shoulder.

"You _wish_. Yeah, I feel better." Cort leaned against him as comfortably as her armour would allow, munching through her apple and putting the core into a pocket for Dogmeat before opening the bottle of dirty water she had selected. Charon let go of her as she did it, turning to face her with a thoughtful look.

"Cort."

"Mmhmm?" She glanced over towards him as she drank, making the inquisitive noise in between swallows.

"Do I love you?" Charon blinked reflexively from the spray that hit him as his employer suddenly ejected water out of her mouth and nose. "I didn't ask for a fucking bath."

Starting to cough and snorting while she tried to talk to him, she leaned on her knees and stuttered out a single word. "Wh-whuh-_What_?"

"Your father asked if I did. I said yes. Do I? Is it like wanting you?" Cort turned her head to the side and snorted the last of the droplets out of her nostrils before responding with a question of her own.

"Wh-What _else_ did he ask you?" She sneezed violently and stared back up at him.

Not willing to get into the details of the question regarding him causing her bodily harm and not being asked what _all_ the questions had been, Charon selected the most innocuous ones from the previous night's conversation. "He asked if I wanted you, and if we'd been sleeping together." He raised a ruined eyebrow as Cort made an odd strangled sound in response and dropped the water bottle. She absently clutched her fingers back around it when he pressed it into her hand after bending to retrieve it for her, hiccuping slightly as she did so.

"Well okay then! So, so what was your answer for the second one. The second question. I know the first."

"I told him yes. We've been doing that since you hired me, for fuck's sakes, whenever we didn't need to keep a watch. Stupid fucking question."

Cort tried to keep from giggling crazily at the ghoul's inadvertent double entendre, while simultaneously resisting the urge to clutch her head and groan. She settled for chugging the rest of the water to give herself a few precious seconds to think and looking everywhere except back at him. _Oh God, I have to spell out complex emotions for someone who's been alive like five freaking times longer than I have. Complex emotions about ME. Oh holy flying Christ on a cracker._ "Uh, well. Do-I can't _believe_ I'm fucking asking you this-do you know what love is?" Cort slapped a palm over her face and waited, clinging to a ludicrously optimistic sense of hope that was quickly stomped out.

"No."

"_Damnit_. I mean. Uh. Oh, _shitballs_." Looking over her shoulder to make sure James hadn't moved, she turned back to the ghoul and looked up into his face. Working up a small and firm bundle of nerves, Cort opened her mouth, prepared to explain everything, and then promptly and completely chickened out. "Charon, as much as I would _like _to explain the entire concept out to you at the moment, this is a very uh, inappropriate place to do it in. It's a fairly _involved_ topic that will take me at least an hour. Maybe more. And a bottle of scotch. I'll really need the scotch. Also maybe some diagrams, and like, uh, a pie chart of some sort. So for now, please just wait until we can get back to Rivet City and I'll explain the whole thing in a nice, safe, entirely _private_ location. And don't ask Dad to explain it to you either in the meantime. You-you didn't, did you?" She sighed with relief when he shook his head and she turned to go get ready. "Okay, super-duper, _let'sgetgoing_."

"Cort?" She winced and ground to a halt, slowly swinging her head back to where he stood looking thoughtfully at her again.

"Yeeees?"

"Do you love me?"

Cort spent a split second thinking she would have preferred to be eaten the previous day instead of being in _this _particular situation before she shook herself out of it and re-focused her attention. Straightening, she stared at the ghoul in front of her, taking in the large, armoured, blood-spattered frame, ravaged face and chalky eyes. Searching for confirmation of something she already knew, Cort held her arms out and waited. Charon instantly responded to her unspoken request, coming over and lifting her up against him, their armour creaking together as he hugged her. She closed her eyes as he made one of his contented grunts and started tugging gently at her hair, feeling her feet swing in the air as he bent backwards to support her.

"Yes, Charon. I do."


	50. Let's Get Moving

**Cort** roused James once Charon had set her down, and after she had noticed and then pulled out the buckshot left in Dogmeat(thoroughly cursing everyone out as she did so, including herself), they all set out on the last leg of their journey towards Rivet City. Catastrophically tired of fighting by now, they edged as far south as possible to avoid the main bulk of the city on the western side of the Potomac while remaining as undetectable as they could. Their efforts were rewarded by only having a few encounters with the easier to handle variety of the Wasteland's mutated creatures, finding nothing more difficult than a single Yao Guai.

"I am so damned _tired_. That's the freaking Nuka Cola factory up there and I don't even _care_." Cort looked up towards the building and shook her head wearily. James sighed in the eternal manner of worn-out parents with fretful children, then called back over his shoulder.

"We're almost there, Cort. Just through a few roads and we'll get to the river, and directly back to Rivet City, if you don't mind a swim."

Looking up the derelict building and wanting nothing more than to at least feel like wanting to explore it, she hefted her repeater up again and continued to gripe. "Have you smelled me? _I've_ smelled me and I nearly knocked my own ass out. I want to _live_ in the river at this point." Charon looked over to her, rolling his eyes as James rubbed his face and declined to respond.

"I'm sure the Mirelurks would go apeshit over that."

Cort twitched and gagged, remembering her most recent encounter with the giant crabs. "I don't need to know what else they would go apeshit over, I already have too much information about that already."

By the time they reached the city proper that evening, Cort was tired enough to give the Arlington Library barely a flicker of interest, her indifference to it compounded by the fact that they had nearly walked directly into a very large encampment of Talon Company. All of them were sobered by what could have been a potentially chilling slip-up since the mercenaries had somehow managed to acquire an operating sentry bot, its menacing rattle the only thing that had tipped them off to the danger they were heading towards. Deciding they did not need replacement parts for their armour _that_ badly when they were so close to Rivet City, Charon took the initiative to rapidly direct them back the way they had come. After backtracking slightly, James motioned towards a highway that sank under an overpass, the length of it littered with derelict cars and furtively moving figures. The ghoul paused and looked over towards his companions.

"Is there anything in there that I shouldn't kill?" Both former Vault dwellers snapped up their left arms and spun rapidly through their Pip-Boys, then gave him a simultaneous shake of their heads. "Good." Charon carefully reached behind to his pack and started flinging frag grenades as he extracted them, long arms propelling them an impressive distance before they clattered to the ground, bouncing off the ruined pavement and rusted metal. He snarled and smiled as the explosions started to go off, accented by the screaming figures that were now quite obviously immolated raiders. Moving rapidly through once the vehicles had finished going off, they risked the slight radiation and heat in favour of avoiding anything that might have been attracted by the ghoul's impromptu fireworks display, who was currently grumbling happily to himself in an absent manner at the feeling of both. Cort grinned and reached over to lace one of her hands briefly with his before letting go and trotting to catch up to James.

She had become more relaxed since her declaration to Charon, feeling as if a weight she hadn't known was even there had been lifted from her chest. Admittedly, a large amount of apprehension remained for various reasons, but she now felt she could at least set her mind to puzzling them out, the remaining problems starting to feel like something she could enjoy solving. Problems were _fascinating_, even if they happened to be her own. Moving after her father as they made their way down to to the riverbank, Cort kept up a running examination of her situation in the back of her mind as they fought through to their current goal. She had isolated a few specific issues by the time they reached the water's edge, blasting away at the substantial amount of Mirelurks inhabiting the shore.

One, she was in love. Not that this was a problem in and of itself, but it had happened rather unexpectedly and in response to a very unexpected suitor, if she could even refer to Charon as that. There was also the fact that her feelings hadn't been verbally reciprocated, never mind the reason for it. Feeling too much silly euphoria to care about the particulars, Cort correctly deduced that even if Charon did not know the appropriate technical terms to explain his behaviour, he most likely did return her feelings in some capacity. Thinking about how he had started touching her, she wouldn't be surprised if he had figured that out before she had even realized it herself, even if he couldn't label it. She decided that if she was loved in return, it didn't really matter if one of them didn't know how to say it, as long as they could show it to each other.

Two, she was in love with a _ghoul. _ Still fairly new to the world as it was now, Cort held no illusions about how most people were likely going to react to them being together, unknowingly homing in on one of her father's main concerns. She had gotten a crash-course on the prejudices facing ghouls from her interactions with Gob, and seeing the way people treated Charon and looked at her _already_ for being friendly to both of them, she expected it would only get even worse once people realized she was doing more. The only 'normal' people she could think of who might react positively to her relationship with him were Moira and the bomb-worshipers, neither of which filled her with a sense of optimism, although at least with the crazy shopkeeper it would be because she was honestly happy they were happy. She sighed and plunged her combat knife into the side of a Mirelurk trying to crush her, doggedly continuing to think as James came over to fire his laser rifle into the giant crab's face, filling the air with the searing smell of burnt fish.

At this point there was no way Cort was going to leave Charon over the opinions of others, never inclined to bend to them in the first place and being far too attached to him by now to start. She would live as a hermit before leaving him, not finding the great majority of humanity that pleasant to hang around with in the first place, and figured the antisocial man would probably prefer that option entirely anyway. Cort smiled as she hit the dirt to avoid a sonic pulse belting out of one of the Mirelurk kings, thinking about them going off somewhere secluded, like Agatha and her husband had chosen to do, spending their lives together.

Getting up and firing her repeater into the gilled monster as Dogmeat latched onto its groin, she sobered when she thought about the woman who was now living all alone, with nothing but her homemade violin and itinerant caravan merchants for company. She would never have to worry about Charon dying of old age, only the possibility of him going feral(she made a grim mental note to discuss the matter in detail with Barrows at the earliest opportunity), but would herself continue to get older and die. The ghoul had already surpassed the average age she could have expected to personally live, but then, she had already come close to dying more times than she could count. Sparing a moment while reloading her repeater to consider that her life was probably going to be cut short _anyway_, regardless of her choice of partners or their lifespans, she decided it was a waste of her brain power to spend potentially limited time worrying about the small shit, especially if it was out of her control.

"Finally. That's all of them. Cort, come over here sweetie and we'll get everyone patched up before we get into the water." James started pulling medical supplies out of his pack as Charon walked around butchering the corpses for meat, Dogmeat still gnawing on the Mirelurk king he had bitten the crotch out of. Making her way over to her father, she methodically started getting her rags and remaining Stimpaks ready.

What worried her most of all was what James' opinion of the entire affair was. He hadn't pushed Cort for details or otherwise, although it was clear it was still weighing on his mind if he had gone so far as to ask Charon if he had been having sex with her. Considering he hadn't gone entirely ballistic at the ghoul saying he _had_, she took it as a sign that he was at least partially accepting of the choice she had made, even if he didn't know she hadn't actually _done_ anything yet. _I haven't even kissed him. I don't even know if he knows _how_ to kiss. I don't know if he even knows how to do, do, oh, oh sweet Jesus, Joseph and Mary. Sex Ed class never went over how to teach someone ELSE to do it._ Cort brayed out a nervous laugh and instantly clapped a hand over her mouth when Charon jerked his head up to look at her, frowning in the way that usually meant he was concerned she was about to lose it. She smiled, waved him off and returned to treating her injuries as James did the same, now glancing up at her with a serious expression. _Oh, crap, here we go. This should be entertaining as fuck._

"Honey, are you sure about him? You've only been out here for a few months. You could find someone..._normal_ to settle down with eventually, if you gave it some time." James kept his voice low, not wanting the ghoul to overhear as he worked. Narrowing her eyes at the slight against the ghoul and starting to get her back up, Cort decided to plunge in with both feet.

"One hundred percent, Dad. And if you've forgotten, I'm not exactly _normal_ anymore myself."

"Yes Cort, I'm aware, but you still _appear_ normal. You could easily hide your mutation, and children aren't everything. There's a lot more to having a happy relationship."

"I shouldn't have to hide _anything_ from someone that's supposed to love me, and he does. And this might be a bit of a newsflash for you, but I love him back. He doesn't care who I am, what I can do, and he'll protect me until the day I die. He threw himself in front of a _Deathclaw_ for me, for fuck's sakes. I won't let go just because he looks different. What kind of person do you think I _am_?" Cort tried to work up as much righteous indignation as she could into an undertone, straining to keep her voice lowered.

"I think you're still a very young girl who latched onto the first strong person you could find in a crisis, who unfortunately also happens to be someone who is going to expose you to a lot of grief, whether he wants to or not. Cort, I'm sorry I have to tell you this, but you have to leave him before you get any more attached, or worse." Cort shut her eyes, resisting an incredibly strong urge to punch her own father. After slowly counting from ten, she opened her eyes and responded.

"No. I could get into a giant hissy fit over what you just said, but I'm not going to. What I'm going to do is this. Dad, it's none of your Goddamned fucking business. You left me behind because you said I was an adult and could have my own life. I've found that life out _here_, whether you like it or not, and for now, it's going to be with _him_. You are far, far past the point of being able to tell me what I can and can't do with it. It's what I want, and I'm done discussing it."

James sighed defeatedly, taking in his daughter's furious expression and deciding there was no deviating her from her chosen path. "Honey, if that's what you want, I'll support you in your decision, even if I think it's a terrible idea. I just hope you don't get hurt by it."

"Worrying about being hurt is a really lousy reason not to do something you feel is right, Dad." Cort turned to motion Charon and Dogmeat over to check for any wounds they might have accumulated as James stared into the distance behind her, where the Jefferson Memorial loomed out of the mist coming off the river.

"Yes honey. I suppose it is."

* * *

**After** pulling themselves up on the far bank of the Potomac(Cort positively wallowing in the water at points to get the accumulated filth off of herself) and finishing off the additional Mirelurks that were attracted by their swimming, the quartet made their way up the scaffolding to Rivet City. James punched the intercom button to summon the bridge and turned to Cort, who was leaning against Charon and by now completely exhausted. "It's still early enough for Doctor Li to be working, so we should go directly to the Science Lab and get Project Purity moving again."

"_Welcome to Rivet City, please wait while the bridge extends_."

Cort resisted the childish urge to stick her tongue out at the intercom, too tired to attempt it at any rate. The closer they had come to the carrier, the more energy her father had seemed to obtain, and she was relatively sure he had sucked it entirely out of her. Looking up at him blearily, she croaked out a reply. "How about you go talk to Li, and I go drop dead somewhere. You can fill me in later. Preferably after I've slept in a _bed_."

"Cort, it's very important we get to work. I've already been irreparably sidetracked by Braun's imprisonment and-" She cut him off with a petulant whining noise she hated to hear coming out of herself.

"Daaad, I just spent about a week...how in _God's_ name was that only a week...just over a week. Just over a week getting out from and back to here and I've been shot, clawed, stabbed, shot, bitten, shot, knocked out and _eaten_. And up until three or four days ago you were a freaking _dog_. I have no idea what bearing that has on me being exhausted but just thinking about it makes me tired, so please, _please_ let me go to bed. I wouldn't be any help to you like this right now anyway."

James took in her shadowed eyes and slumped posture as the bridge swung out to allow them into the city. "All right honey. I'm sorry if I've been pushing you too hard. I can let you know what's happened in the morning and what our next step will be."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." Cort shoved herself upright and made as straight a line as possible walking across the bridge as it grinded into place, waving weakly to the security chief as he advanced to see who was coming. "Hi Chief Harkness. Awww, come on Dogmeat, leave him alone." She frowned as the dog trotted quickly up to the armoured man and started snuffling around his knees, repeating the behaviour he had performed on their first trip into the city. Harkness gave a dismissive shake of his head, watching Cort and the others approach.

"It's fine, Miss. He's not hurting anything by being friendly. I see you found your father. Sir." He tipped a lazy salute in James' direction and got one in exchange before returning back to the carrier. "I trust all of you remember my previous instructions?"

"Yes, Chief Harkness. Clean noses." Cort signalled Dogmeat to follow and headed inside the carrier, then hugged her father before he split off to go to the Science Lab. "Come on Charon, we'll go back to the hotel again. I want a door, and I want to lock it."

This time along with the disagreeable Mister Handy, they found a pretty short-haired blonde woman wearing a blue pre-war dress. Cort dispensed with the niceties of greeting her entirely and went directly to depositing the required amount of caps on the desk. "I'd like a room, please."

The woman looked avidly over Cort's shoulder to where Charon was standing as she started flicking the caps into her hand. "_A_ room?"

Too tired to start a pissing match, she selected the response she thought would end the conversation as fast as humanly possible. "Yes, _a_ room, singular. I'm not made of caps." She thinned her lips, and decided to get another difficult matter over with while she was too worn out to be nervous about it. "And a bottle of scotch, if you have it."

"Of _course_. Door around the corner to your right, Miss." Stumbling around to return to the room she had occupied previously after delicately plucking the proffered alcohol out of the woman's hand in exchange for another little pile of caps, Cort had time to hear her continue talking before cutting her off entirely by shutting the door. "Mister Buckingham, now is _that_ the girl you-"

Closing her eyes and letting out a long breath, Cort listened to Charon depositing his pack, not resisting when he pulled her forward to remove her own. She opened her eyes again to watch as he methodically started taking off her armour, starting from the top down. Interspersed with the removal of each section were the slow pets and caresses the ghoul had become adept at giving and she shut her eyes again when he got to the plating on her hips. Clenching her hand around the neck of the scotch bottle when he suddenly nudged her legs apart to reach the buckles for it, Cort gasped and shoved herself back, fetching up against the door.

"I, uh, I can get those ones. Take care of your own instead, huh?" She watched him stand up and start to do as she had directed while giving her a questioning look.

"What, fucking ticklish again?"

"Uh yeah. Something...something like that." Cort finished taking off the rest of her plating, then discarded her boots before crawling onto the bed, yanking the cork out of the bottle with her teeth as she did so. Spitting it out across the room, she looked over to Charon. "I think we can have that talk now, before I lose my ner-we lose the opportunity. Come on and sit down."


	51. Carpe Diem

_Re: recent review - For the purposes of this story, yes, male ghouls will have their junk attached and functional. I am not writing a tragic comedy, and my laptop will spontaneously combust if Cort gets any more frustrated. :P Besides, the females still have their boobs, so it's only fair that the guys get to keep something as well. And speaking of reviews, thanks for the new ones and the favourites! You guys are ace._

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* * *

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**"I **think you should eat something instead of sucking back on that fucking swill." Tossing his own boots towards the neat pile he had made in the corner of their belongings, Charon sprawled out next to her after taking off Dogmeat's armour for him, leaning against the headboard and lacing his fingers over his chest.

"Look, 'the fucking swill' is the only way I'm going to get through this with any of my already shattered nerves intact." Cort buried her face in one hand and groaned, then took a long pull off of the bottle. Coughing, she crossed her legs and then shuffled around to face him. "So. Uhm. First thing I should tell you is there's no real answer to the question I asked you after you asked if you loved me. Well there is, but everyone thinks it's something different, so I can only tell you what _I_ think. And there's all different kinds of love too, depending on who's involved. Like, I love my Dad, and Dogmeat, and you, but all of those are different kinds. Like uuuh, oh shit. Like, different ammo for different guns, but it's it's all guns. _Yeah_. We'll just talk about the last one, our kind. Is-is this getting confusing yet?"

Charon looked at her blandly. "Usually everything gets fucking confusing once you open your mouth."

"Hey! Not all the time, it-" She calmed down when she noticed the ghoul was grinning, realizing he had been teasing her. "Oh ha _ha_. It's not funny you know, this is hard to do. Remember what I told you when you asked how I wanted you?" He sobered and nodded in response. "Well, you were right, it _is_ a lot like that. Wanting the other person around, happy when they are, unhappy if they're not. You want to stay near them all the time, and it hurts if they're not there, and you feel hurt if they're hurt. You like taking care of each other, thinking about them all the time, and being attracted and wanting to do, uh, stuff. The touching and uh, other, nicer things." Cort flushed, starting to feel distinctly warm in more than one area, and took another drag out of the bottle. "You-you don't want to do any of that touching stuff with anyone _else_, do you?"

"_Fuck_ no." He looked at her, disgusted. Cort smiled, suddenly happy.

"Okay then. And you don't want to leave, and like being around me, and all that? Think about me a whole lot, and the rest of the stuff I said sounds right?"

"Fuck no, yes, yes, yes." She smiled wider at his answers, watching him flip out a thumb and three fingers as he rattled them off.

All right. Then yes Charon, you probably love me."

"Good. I like that."

Cort relaxed and quietly sipped what was left of the scotch, pleased that the difficult conversation had turned out to be relatively painless and starting to get a comfortable buzz. _I don't care if I'm hung over, I deserve a drink after all that. I deserve an entire bar. I deserve an entire city _block_ of-_

"So what other nice things can we do?" Charon smartly caught the bottle before it could impact on the mattress and spill over everything while Cort coughed and sputtered. "You really need to stop fucking doing that." Looking at her watering eyes critically, the ghoul leaned forward and placed the half-full container on the floor instead of giving it back to her.

"Yeah I really should. Uh, other things. Right. There's a few things, that people can do with each other, _extremely_ nice things, oh God, are they ever, which I'm not sure I can _tell_ you about, since...since...I _haven't_..." Frustrated, she groaned and placed her head in her hands, the momentary calm she had gotten from the alcohol starting to burn away from a mix of overly strained nerves and rising arousal.

* * *

**Listening** to Cort wind herself up, Charon reached over and started rubbing one hand up and down her back, making small circles around the base of her spine where she always seemed to particularly like it. Remembering his own difficulties but still wanting to know what could be nicer than all the touching had been, he tried a different approach as she started to arch her back and squirm at the attention. "Can you show me instead?" Stiffening, she dropped her hands and turned to face him, a predatory look starting to shutter over her features.

"Can I? Yes. Oh _fuck_ yes." He had a moment to wonder why she suddenly sounded aggressive, a complete about face from her earlier stutter, before the impact of her body nearly knocked the air clean out of him. Reflexively throwing up his arms to grab her as she straddled him, his efforts to draw in another breath were hampered by the fact that Cort had solidly planted her mouth over his, shutting her eyes as she did it. This was definitely nicer, even with the lightheadedness he was starting to feel. He managed to pull in a breath when she broke away to take one of her own, and found that it didn't do anything to dispel the feeling, which only got worse as she slid her tongue into his mouth, tasting of bitter alcohol and something sweeter, and very, very hot. _All_ of her was hot, especially where her thighs were wrapped around his torso, and it felt positively wonderful.

_No wonder that fuckhead merchant liked this so much. This is fucking fantastic._ Charon started pushing his mouth back against hers, carefully paying attention and emulating her motions as she made them. Taking it as approval when Cort squeezed harder with her legs and start to rub her hands down over his back, he started moving his own, working his fingers over her ribs. Acting on impulse, he thrust a hand up the back of her shirt as he buried the other one into her hair and was rewarded with another crushing squeeze and a long groan. If touching her through her shirt had been nice, this was practically heaven. Her skin was burning, and all of it was beautifully smooth wherever he touched it. Liking the feel of it immensely, he worked his other hand down and joined it with where the first had gone, then started moving them everywhere he could reach. Everywhere he could reach now included everything on her front, and Charon finally closed his own eyes when one large hand found a very soft breast. _Oh holy shit. _These _are fucking fantastic_._ Why didn't I fucking find these things before._

Cort had generally had her arms folded over them as a matter of course whenever she was lying down, and when they weren't her chest was covered by ablative plating, effectively rendering anything under it non-existent. The ghoul proceeded to make up for weeks of lost time by methodically fondling both of them, encouraged when she began punctuating the endless kissing with delightfully sharp bites and little noises. Driving his employer into a positive frenzy when he homed in on the particularly sensitive areas and bit back in imitation of her, Cort started doing something new to him. Pulling his shirt up and running smooth hands over his rough sides, she began rolling her hips and pushing down against his groin as hard as she could. Through the warm haze in his mind Charon felt a sense of apprehension working its way though to the forefront as something _else _started to work its way up, something that was causing her to redouble her efforts and movements. What it doubled for Charon was a spike of fear that removed his arousal entirely, old lessons and buried training punching through as Cort slipped a hand down between them. _This-this isn't supposed to happen. This isn't fucking supposed to happen! What the fuck did she do to me, what the fuck is she _doing_? What the fuck, fuck no, nonoNO!_

A number of things happened in quick succession. Cort was ejected from the ghoul's lap without warning, yelping out a protest before her head cracked against the bed frame, the complaint turning rapidly into a pained whimper. Dogmeat barked, alarmed by the sudden movement, and came over to nuzzle at Cort when she started to make her hurt noises. Charon grabbed his boots up in one hand, fumbling for the doorknob with the other, and then did something that he had never done before in his life. He ran away.

* * *

**"Jesus** _Christ_, that was _not_ nice touching. What the fuck was _that_ for, Charon? Charon?" Cort managed to get one look at his frantic face before the door slammed. Pulling Dogmeat closer to her as he licked her face, she stared at the floor and suppressed the urge to cry, the throbbing knot forming at the back of her head making it difficult. The scotch sloshing around in the rest of her did nothing to help her efforts either, and she griped while trying to collect her senses. "Dogmeat, what the hell, _I'm_ supposed to be the nervous one crossing my legs. Fuck, you'd think he's never had a girl jump him bef-oh. Oh _no_. Oh fucking Christ, I'm a fucking _idiot_. What did I just do to him? Jesus, I have to go find him."

Deciding that boot laces were something that she didn't want to spend time fooling around with, she yanked off both her socks to find better traction on the metal floors and ran to the door. Opening it, she found no one in the corridors and no indication of where Charon had gone. Hissing with frustration, she signalled Dogmeat to follow and then pulled the door shut after coming out into the hallway, ripping a bobby-pin out of her pocket to lock the door from the outside. "Momma needs your help more than she needs you to protect our junk. Find Charon baby, go find him for Momma." Cort padded silently after the dog as he immediately took off up the hallways, bee-lining for the metal staircase next to the main entrance as he snuffled across the floor. Heading up the stairs and breaking off whenever the dog scratched at a new door, they emerged outside a few minutes later, stepping onto the deserted flight deck of the carrier.

_Not quite deserted if Dogmeat brought me up here_. "You stay here and let me know if anyone else comes out, all right honey?" She smiled as the dog softly whuffed, then quietly started wandering around the metal expanse of the deck, being careful to stay back from the sides. Looping around the entire expanse and going so far as to search inside the derelict aircraft, she finally found Charon towards the stern, almost invisible in the darkness. At some point he had put his boots back on, and the erratic thumping had helped her to home in on his location. "Charon?"

"What the _fuck_ did you do to me, Cort." Wincing as she walked up to him, she tried to keep up with his random pacing, repeating the expression when he jerked his hand away from her reaching one.

"I did what you asked me to."

"No! I'm not supposed to feel that, feel _like_ that. It's _wrong_. That. That's _not_ what I fucking asked for." Charon bent his head and laced his hands on the back of his neck in a familiar posture of distress and continued walking around. Practically jogging to keep up with his longer legs and skidding with his sudden turns, she placed a hand on his back and was almost knocked off her feet when he rounded on her. "Don't fucking _TOUCH_ me, Cort! It's not _right_!"

Recovering, she resumed her half-jog, this time with her hands firmly in her pockets. "Okay okay, see, no hands, I put them away, you're fine. But why isn't it? It seemed to be pretty right up until a few minutes ago, really right, and whenever else we did it. Why can't you now?"

"It's, it's against _training_, I'm not supposed to. It's wrong, it's fucking _wrong_, and I'm not doing it _again_."

Cort felt her heart break, listening to how frantic he was getting over doing something that was natural as breathing for regular people. _Oh, what did they do to you. If I could find them I would slaughter them all by inches_. "Charon, if you'll just let me get close I can show you it's all right and-"

"_I FUCKING SAID NO, CORT_!"

She stepped back as he screamed at her, finally coming to a halt himself and staring at her from the edge of the deck. Fretting at the impasse of needing to comfort him but not being able to, she started to get an extremely bad but brilliant idea. _Well. I can't fix this if I can't show him touching me is fine, or even talk to him about it, so. Going to have to _make_ him touch me, whether he likes it or not. If _this_ doesn't shake him right the fuck out of it, nothing will_. Riding on a crash of emotions and half a bottle of cheap scotch, Cort backed herself up even farther, calculating how to execute the incredibly stupid plan she had come up with.

"Charon?" Aiming herself for a path that would take her almost directly past him, she lowered herself into a half-crouch and braced one bare foot behind her, toes against a seam in the metal.

"What."

She spent a moment wondering if the risk was worth the payoff, and then shrugged to herself, deciding it was. _Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I want him back_. "_Please_ be quick, okay? I'm pretty sure I can't fly."

"_What_?"

Cort pushed off into a flat-out sprint, her feet pounding out a rhythmic staccato against the decking as she ran. Laughing triumphantly as he darted towards her, she pelted towards the edge of the carrier and launched herself off of it, airborne over the dizzying height for a split-second before a strong arm slammed itself into her waist and yanked her back from the abyss she had flung herself towards. She crashed to the ground facing Charon, who had pulled her in tightly to protect her from the impact.

"There, see? Not that bad. Want to let go now?" He looked at her, horrified, while scrabbling his feet against the deck to push them farther away from the drop off.

"You fucking crazy little _bastard_, I'm fucking _never_ letting you go after that shit! What the fuck is _wrong_ with you? Are you _trying_ to kill yourself?"

Cort grinned like a lunatic and wrapped her arms around his neck as best as she could while pinned to the deck. "No, I'm trying to save you. See? The touching thing is okay. Actually very beneficial for me at the moment, or I'd be flatter than Susie Mack's chest." Belatedly realizing what he was doing, Charon started trying to pull himself loose as she giggled crazily, stopping cold after her next statement. "You let go and I'm going to go _right_ back to throwing myself off of this thing."

"No fucking way. You fucking _wouldn't_."

"I already did it once, didn't I? And now I'm high on adrenaline as well as drunk. So, you _will_ listen to me, Charon." Gratified when his attitude mellowed out at her authoritative tone, Cort settled down to discuss what had just happened. "I'm sorry if I pushed too hard and made you uncomfortable, but what we were doing and what you felt was not wrong. It was completely, entirely, biologically normal, I promise, and I felt the same things too."

Charon stiffened up again, ready to protest. "No, it's _wrong_, and-"

"Why? Because some assholes who screwed with your head told you so? They're what's wrong, not you." She frowned, aggravated when he continued to disagree with her.

"I am _not_ supposed to do this."

"I _don't _remember seeing that written in your contract." Charon blinked in surprise, and Cort smiled, having found a way in. "I _do_ remember ordering you to do whatever you _wanted_ to do, and obeying your employer _was_ in there. So. What do you want? Take your time thinking about it, I'm not going anywhere." She dropped her head onto her shoulder and quietly watched him, waiting.

Charon was stuck in a mental and emotional quandry. The ghoul was not sure what he found more upsetting, the loss of security he felt as more of the rules laid down in him degraded, or the frightening uncertainty of the things Cort was offering to replace them with. Reassuringly, his employer had always been able to fill any holes she had managed to tear open, keeping him whole but changing him as a result. Unfortunately, change for him was usually terrifying. He remembered asking her how she could be competent one minute and foolish the next while they had been assaulting the MoT, and her snapped reply to him seemed to be apt, compared to what he was now going through. _Growing pains. I suppose that fucking fits. I haven't felt this fucking screwed up since I _was_ growing up. Where the flying fuck do I even _start_ with this._ Charon looked down at her, looking for advice and stalling at the same time.

"Cort. How the fuck am I supposed to figure this out."

She drowsily answered him a few seconds later, stifling a yawn. "Loopholes, Charon. Contract. Keep thinking."

Charon thought. Obeying the contract and his orders was the most important thing. There was nothing in the contract regarding feeling emotions or engaging in pleasurable physical behaviours towards or with the holder. Cort was his employer, and had come to represent his contract. His contract told him to do what he wanted. He blinked again as she let out another yawn, fanning his face with it, her breath still saturated with the scent of scotch and whatever the unidentifiable sweetness hidden beneath it was. Her eyes focused in on him for a second, and as she mouthed the word 'loopholes' at him, smiling while she did it, something finally hit him. If he had been able to kill the bastard who instructed him not to do what Cort wanted to do, then why couldn't he _ignore _him too? Charon firmly pushed his misgivings aside with this thought and went with what he had been ordered to do, his core tenet of obedience to his employer never having been in question. It was still solid, and he clung to it as he clung to Cort. "I want you. All of it."

"I never doubted. Don't worry anymore, okay? We'll just do everything when you want to. I can have patience in spades if you need it. Even if it will drive me crazy." Cort closed her eyes, right on the edge of nodding off as he reached up and started tugging at her hair, his stiff frame relaxing into hers. "Charon?"

"What, Cort."

"Can we please go sleep in the bed instead of out here. It's really uncomfortable."

"Yes Cort. We can go to bed."


	52. Pulling Punches

**Cort **woke up with a pounding headache and a calmer frame of mind and body. Charon had half-carried her back to the room, her perception of the correct locations of up and down displaced and her coordination shot entirely to hell. It had taken her five solid minutes to jimmy the hotel room door open again, and by the time she got through she was literally dropping. All she recalled after that were vague memories of the ghoul tucking her against himself, placing one large hand possessively on her chest, and Dogmeat jumping up into his preferred location in front of her after they had settled. She cracked one eye open and spoke, wincing at how loud she sounded to herself. "Charon? Oh, _God_."

"Over here. Fucking hung over, aren't you." Carefully raising her other eye, she blearily focused in on where the ghoul was sat on the floor, methodically going over their belongings and repairing anything that needed to be.

"Maybe." Cort was fairly certain a large chunk of her misery was due to the knot on the back of her head, but refrained from mentioning it, not wanting to upset him.

"Serves you right after the shit you pulled. You scared the living fuck out of me last night with that jumping shit."

"Well it _worked_." Sliding out of the bed she started groping for her socks and boots, pausing to grab a bottle of water and a pile of Mirelurk meat on one of their plates when he pointed towards where he had set them on the floor. "Mother hen."

"Batshit loon."

She slumped next to him on the floor, tying her laces and smiling dazedly when he leaned in to give her hair a few tugs, carefully nipping at her damaged ear after a moment's hesitation. _Oh, oh wow. Thank Christ. His speed might be fast enough to keep me from shorting out entirely like an oversexed circuit board_. Cort finished with her boots and pushed against him, cuddling. "Love you too. Have you seen Dad yet?"

Charon pushed back lightly before returning to his work. "That's what woke _me_ the fuck up. He knocked on the door sometime around dawn and I impressed on him just how fucking tired you were from all the fucking shit you had to go through, and how much of a _fantastic_ fucking idea it would be for you to keep sleeping."

"Christ, did _he_ even sleep?"

"Don't know, don't care. He said you could find him in the Science Lab whenever you got up. Which you can go do after you fucking _eat_."

"Yes, dear." She chirped facetiously at him and did as she was told before pulling herself together and heading out to look for her father, signalling Dogmeat to come along for company. She found him where he had told her to look, having an animated discussion with Doctor Li, looking up when she clunked down the stairs towards them. Thankfully Zimmer seemed to be absent, and she made a note to check with everyone else she could think of that might have an idea where the escaped android was at the earliest opportunity, not sure how long the odd little man would wait before hiring someone else. _If the creepy bastard hasn't already. I need to protect that machine...man. There's all kinds of business I need to catch up on. That, Agatha, and Gob's letter. I really, really need to deliver that. And talking to Barrows._

"Oh good honey, you're up. We need to get moving back to the Memorial." James looked at her, his eyes bright but with dark hollows beneath them. Cort frowned.

"Daddy, did you even go to bed last night?"

"I had an hour or so in there somewhere. You told me that you and Charon cleared the Super Mutants from the Memorial when you were there last, correct?"

"Yeah, but there's probably at least a couple more back in there by now. There's always more, they're worse than the radroaches." Cort frowned. It had been a while since she had given any serious thought towards the ugly creatures and whoever might be producing them. Brightening, she thought about how much easier it would be now that she had her father to bounce theories off of. "Hey, maybe we could find out where and stop-"

"For the moment that isn't important, Cort. Are you and Charon ready to leave? The others will need your protection."

She responded slowly, uncertain and a little hurt. "Uh, yeah, Dad. He's repairing everything and then we just need to repack."

"Good. I'll be helping the rest of Madison's staff prepare, and we'll meet you on the other side of the bridge."

"Oh...okay, Dad."

Cort watched him go towards a small group of people clustered around one of the research tables, then turned back to Doctor Li when she spoke up, surprisingly effusive.

"I can't believe you found him! I'm sorry I was so short with you previously. After seeing James for the first time in so long and then you, it brought back a lot of regrets. Thank you for bringing him back to, to the project."

Li began to flush, and Cort felt a momentary surge of jealousy and then pain for her unremembered mother, the desire to break the scientist's nose returning. _'Madison' and 'James' now, is it? Isn't that just fucking special. _Schooling her face into a pleasant smile, she nodded towards the other woman. "Don't mention it. This is where he wanted to go, and it was so very important to my _Mom_ to finish this. I'll join up with you all outside." Not bothering to wait for a response, she tipped a cheery salute and jogged up the stairs, heading back to the room while brooding unhappily. On the way she passed more than one resident emerging for the day who gave her a dirty look. _Oh great. Here we go. A pageant of the Capital Wasteland's Most Tolerant. I wonder who'll win Miss Congeniality._

"Corpse fucker."

Cort spun in place to face a scruffy-looking dark haired man in a Wastelander outfit hanging out of the Common Room door. _And we have a winner_. "The correct term is necrophiliac, you irradiated roach jockey."

"You're a fucking piece of filth."

"You're fucking close to getting my knee in your crotch, dickless. What, upset a ghoul can get more than you can?"

"Listen you little bitch, I don't have problems finding anyone to screw."

"The palm of your hand doesn't count, jackhole, and I bet that's all you've been screwing." Cort grinned when he flushed, and got ready to fire off another rapid series of taunts. Verbal supremacy was her favourite game.

"Let's see how much you fucking smile when a bullet blows that piece of shit's brains out. I've got friends, you little fuck, that would just love to do him, and then you. Do _you_ a lot."

Everything suddenly going red as he leered and made a grab for her crotch, she snapped. The next few moments were a blur that ended when three security officers pulled them apart, one of whom was Harkness, his arms wrapped around Dogmeat's chest as the animal snapped towards the man Cort had attacked. "Miss, I'd really have to regret anything unfortunate happening to your animal. Why don't you calm down now?"

Immediately relaxing in the grip of the officer holding her, she looked over towards her dog. "Dogmeat, leave off." He instantly sat back and looked up to her, grinning. "That's my best boy." Harkness cautiously let him go and stood up.

"Now, would either of the two of you like to tell me what the hell is going on here?" The scruffy man snapped out from where he was being restrained against the bulkhead wall, one side of his face raked open from Cort's nails. Noticing, she started surreptitiously flicking her fingers to dislodge the skin she felt stuck underneath them.

"Crazy Vault bitch attacked me, I wasn't doin' nothing!"

"What! You fucking _liar_, you flung insults like a monkey chucking shit, then threatened to kill my friend and _rape_ me!" Cort suppressed a laugh as the officer holding her quietly piped up from behind.

"What's a monkey?"

Harkness gave him a quelling look and turned to address the crowd on either side of the doorway. "Is that true? Any of you others hear that?"

An elderly man in a brown sweater vest stepped forward, nudging through the front row of people. "I did, Chief Harkness. While I cannot condone the resulting violence, the fellow did exactly what she said he did, and provoked the lady first by grabbing for her." Cort beamed at him, gratified that at least one person she didn't know wasn't being a complete asshole.

"Right. Thank you, Father Clifford."

"You-you're going to believe that ghoul fucker over _me_?" Harkness frowned. There had been scuttlebutt all over the ship since last night about the Vault dweller's proclivities, which he attributed to Vera Weatherly's complete inability to keep her mouth shut. Unsurprisingly, the majority of the residents found the idea reprehensible, although Harkness himself had queerly never found differences of appearance to be something to get hung up over, and didn't care what the girl got up to as long as she behaved. The negative reactions from others however, he found distasteful on a deep personal level he couldn't quite identify.

"The _young miss_ has a witness, a damned good one, and I have no patience for discriminatory bullshit, and even less for threats of murder and rape in _my_ city, no matter the target. She has also not caused problems before, whereas you have ended up on my radar at least twice. _You _are going to spend a night in the brig, and then you're out, permanently." He flicked a hand down the corridor and watched the other two officers pull the man down the hall, who was still screaming out profanities, and then turned to Cort after shooing the crowd away. "As for you Miss, I think it would be best if you left for a while. I'm not banning you, but I will if this happens again, and I wouldn't recommend patronizing the Weatherly Hotel in future if you're fond of your privacy. Next time, just report the incident to me or one of my officers."

Cort goggled at her luck. "Can-can I please go to the Marketplace first? I'm setting out with Doctor Li and her staff to the Jefferson today and I'll need more ammo if I'm going to protect them properly."

"Fine, but you bug out right smart after that."

Cort tipped him a salute and beat feet the instant he nodded back, Dogmeat loping behind her. She entered their room just as Charon was packing the last of their belongings away, digging the remaining bloody tissue out from under her nails. "We're heading back to the Memorial now, just need to go to the Marketplace for stuff and then meet up with everyone outside the carrier."

* * *

**"What** the _fuck_ happened to your _face_?" Charon went over and carefully grabbed her chin, peering at the swollen tissue over her left eye, purple starting to blush out around the socket.

"I, uh, just got in a fight. It's fine, don't worry about it. He looks worse!"

Cort smiled up at him, clearly believing that this was an appropriate trade off for the massive shiner she was starting to get. Unsurprisingly, he found it did nothing to dispel his temper, particularly when the split in her lip started to bleed at the movement. "He's going to look _dead _when I get the fuck through with him."

"No, no no, I told you it's fine. Security dragged him away for the shit he was saying, but we've gotta leave now." He narrowed his eyes at her and she tilted her head down to blot her lip on her shirt sleeve, avoiding the look.

"_What_ shit."

"Stupid shit, it doesn't matter. I pounded the snot out of him for it anyway, so let's _go_." Cort squeaked when he pulled her against him and he buried one hand in her hair. Frowning, he looked down at the top of her head. While short fused in combat, she was remarkably good at keeping her temper outside of it, even when people were antagonizing her on purpose. Charon smelt a molerat.

"Fucking _bullshit_. I've seen people piss you off before without you attacking them, so something's wrong. What fucking shit, Cort?"

He felt her breath rush out of her as she pressed her face into his shirt and sighed. "I got called a...mean name for being with you and...and then they threatened to put a bullet in your head. It doesn't matter, I took care of it."

Belatedly, the ghoul started to get an idea of what James had referred to by being close with her, and the consequences. Leaning forward, he picked her entirely off of the floor, cradling her head against his neck as a rush of unsettling emotions ran through him. _Fuck. This love shit is fucking complicated._ "You're not going fucking anywhere without me the _fuck_ again, ever." He squeezed her harder when she wrapped her own arms around him and patted at his back, comforting.

"Don't be foolish, I had Dogmeat with me. He could kill at least half the ship if I told him to. Besides, I'm the one who threw the first punch."

"I don't care. You keep getting hurt and it's my fucking fault. This shit, the fucking cannibals, the-" He shut up, startled as Cort pulled back and lightly pressed her lips against his. He spent a long, pleasurable moment re-exploring her mouth before she broke away to talk to him, flushed.

"No, not your fault, I keep telling you. I'll get hurt no matter what, and I'd rather get hurt with you. So knock that off and stop worrying about the shit you can't change. Besides, we're leaving here, and we won't be staying in this shithole hotel again. We can find a room in the Metro to hole up in or something next time we're through." She looked at him, expression going from serious to teasing. "Now, how about we go have some fun and blow the guts out of stuff, huh? If you know, you can manage to hit anything with that piece of shit shotgun."

Charon decided to let himself be distracted by her kiss and the familiar game and played along with her. "More than you will with that gutless, jumped up hunting rifle."

"Lousy shot."

"Jackass." He slid a hand up the back of her shirt before setting her down, Cort pushing up on her toes to press her cheek against his.

"I love you too."

* * *

_Okay folks, I need a break. I took one around 25 chapters ago, or something, but it's been well over 125,000 words and I'm getting kind of crisped around the edges. Won't be too long, probably about a week, and then I'll be back in the saddle. Thanks again soo much for those of you who have favourited and taken the time to review, I seriously wouldn't still be writing this if not for your encouragement. Truthfully, I was an inch away from not even starting this in the first place, so it means a lot to me that you guys enjoy it. I had no idea I could go this far! I hope you'll all stick with me when I start a new installment once this part of the story concludes.  
_


	53. Back in the Saddle

_Thanks for the new reviews guys! On with the show._

* * *

**Anyone** who had thought of harassing the girl further abandoned the idea immediately after seeing the size of the ghoul looming over her, chalked out eyes latching onto those stupid enough to keep looking in her direction, and Cort finished her business in Rivet City on a pleasant high note with Flak and Shrapnel. After stocking up on supplies and ammo and getting rid of their surplus materials, they headed outside to meet up with James and the rest of the scientists.

"Finally, there you are. Wha...honey, what happened to your _face_?"

_Damn. Thought the helmet might kinda hide that, at least an eensy bit_. "I got in a fistfight. I won. Jefferson?" Giving his daughter a long look that implied the conversation was only paused and not over, they set out towards the remains of Project Purity, James leading and Cort and her two spread out around the sides of the six scientists. _Thank Christ this is a short trip. These people look completely useless out of doors_. All of them were in their regular clothing of lab coats or Wastelander gear, and while they were laden with various bits of equipment, she didn't see a single weapon among them. Her suspicions were confirmed when a stray Centaur appeared out of the rubble from her side, driving the entire group into a screeching mass with the exception of Doctor Li and Garza. Blowing its head off, Cort then exchanged an eyeroll with Charon. _Not even half a year out here and I'm more competent than these scrubs. Pathetic_.

Making it to the Memorial entrance without further incident, James stood to one side and motioned Cort over. "All right honey, I'll stay out here with Madison and her staff, if you can make sure the rest of the building is still clear." Frowning internally at the continued first name familiarity, she tipped off a lazy salute and motioned to her companions, proceeding inside. They made it as far as the entrance to the lower levels before Dogmeat started snarling softly. Charon looked over to her from the other side of the door, letting out a raspy whisper.

"How do you want to clear the fuckbags out, grenades? Or your favoured tactic of 'run in like a fucking idiot'?" Cort continued listening, pensive.

"No, no telling where they are down there, and I don't feel like getting shot up, I'm _tired_. How many mines do you have?"

"With me? Ten."

"Okay, put like, three of them down around the door. I've got an idea."

He started placing the devices as she retreated with Dogmeat, continuing to gripe quietly. "Oh fucking fabulous. This isn't going to work unless we make noise, and that'll scream trap like a bastard."

Cort grinned. "Not if they don't expect what's coming. Trust me, I've done this before, and this time I can't get toasted by exploding public transit." She looked over to the dog. "Remember the car tunnel honey? Today's kinda sucked, so let's have some _fun_." Waiting for the ghoul to join them behind a pile of sandbags, she switched out for her Chinese assault rifle and aimed for the door, Charon still looking at her oddly. She had never bothered to explain the details around losing her hair, finding it personally humiliating. Winking at him, she tilted her head back, expanded her chest and then howled, Dogmeat grinning at her and starting to bark a second later as voices started floating up from below.

"DOGS? DOGS INSIDE?"

"STUPID, YOU LEFT DOOR THING OPEN."

"I NOT STUPID, _YOU_ STUPID. GO KILL DOGS."

"ME NOT STUPID, AND _YOU_ KILL DOGS, _YOU _LEFT DOOR THING OPEN!"

Cort broke off howling to mutter, exasperated. "Jesus, come kill _us_, just stop fucking _talking_. My ears are going to start bleeding."

"Just keep fucking doing that shit, they're coming." Charon rolled his eyes as she grinned and started barking at him, making a surprisingly passable imitation, before turning back to the door as the stomping and inane chatter got louder. Both ducked at the sight of one of the massive freaks emerging from the doorway, a rapid series of concussions blasting out as the mines went off, echoing around the enclosed space. Once the pattering impact of shrapnel had stopped, they strafed the remaining mutant from the cover of the sandbags until it was nothing more than a pulp.

"Okay, let's see if there's any more of those boogers left down there."

Gratifyingly, the two that had come up the stairs were the only mutants who had encroached back into the building in the intervening days they had been away, and Cort quickly returned upstairs to give her father and the waiting scientists the all clear. James gave her a quick hug and a smile before striding back into project Purity, hauling his Vault suit out of his pack and starting to strip his combat armour off. "Excellent, sweetheart. Now we can finally get back to work."

* * *

**Cort** felt neglected and frustrated. The extent to which her father required her help seemed to be limited entirely to guard duty after being used as a mule to help clear debris during the initial clean out. While more than bright enough to do the work, the particular systems that made up Project Purity were like nothing that her father had taught her about, and any efforts she had made towards receiving instruction on how they operated were met with 'later' or 'speed is needed' or 'not right now, why don't you make sure everything outside is still secure?'. Not helping was the fact that none of them, outside of James, Li, and for some reason Garza, were particularly excited by the presence of the ghoul, and Daniel Agincourt was proving to be exceptionally nasty to her whenever the opportunity presented itself. After a week, Cort finally gave up and spent most of her time walking the scaffolding outside the Memorial with Charon and Dogmeat, breaking down enough out of boredom to keep GNR playing near constantly when there wasn't anything around to shoot. Feet dangling over the edge of the walkway, she leaned against one of the railing bars, crossing her arms on it and sighing.

"You need to get the fuck out and go kill something." The ghoul dropped down to sit to the right of her as 'Easy Living' finished playing for the umpteenth time, working one hand into her hair and nuzzling his face into the top of it after removing her helmet. While decidedly more affectionate, there had been little opportunity to see how far the man was now willing to go, what with seven other people jammed into the living spaces of the Memorial and running around at all hours of the night. Catching on to some of the nastier looks from the less tolerant members of the team, Charon had also started refraining from touching her when anyone else was around, which was only adding to her mounting frustration. _There's _always_ someone the fuck around. Usually telling me to get out of the way or go patrol_. Cort snorted as Three Dog came back on.

"_Grab your hankies, children, cause I've got a heart-warming tale to tell. It's about a little girl's search for her daddy_. _Waaaahh! You see, the kid from Vault 101 has been looking for her dad, a very nice man named James, who left his daughter behind in the vault when he took off. What kind of dad leaves his kid in an underground bunker? Children, I just don't know. It ain't for Three Dog to judge, and you shouldn't either. But none of that matters now! Father and daughter were spotted walkin' and talkin' together out there in the Wastes, and heading back to some long-forgotten dream called Project Purity. Here's hoping they can hold onto each other this time around, and get that big machine working again, whatev-_"

Violently jabbing at the buttons and cutting the DJ off, she leaned into the ghoul and wrapped an arm around his waist, wishing she could do more. "Can I get the fuck out and go kill that?"

"I won't fucking argue. Fuck, I'll shove a grenade up his ass if you ask. The amount of shit that pours out of him, it'll fucking fit for sure." Cort barked out a laugh in response to his offer and he smiled, moving his hand down to stroke her neck.

"No, that's fine. You're right though, I'm going nuts here. I really thought helping Dad out would involve, you know, actual helping. Not babysitting these jerks. Or getting put down by them 24/7."

"So tell them to go fuck themselves. There's been what, two fuckwad raiders and one mutant in the last week? Your father got the turrets back online, and he's not a complete moron with a gun, so let's go fuck off for a while. Go to Underworld, you can see those scrubs you like so much, or go fuck up someplace new."

"You actually want to go somewhere new? What happened to hating my idiot ideas?"

"You're unhappy, and I'm fucking bored out of my shitting tree. Neither of us was made to sit the fuck around. I _hate_ sitting the fuck around. Reminds me of that fucking bar."

Cort stared out across the river as he rubbed behind her clipped ear, his other hand pressing against her stomach. "Yeah, why not? There's stuff of my own I need to do anyway. Stuff I miss, too."

* * *

**It** was easier than Cort thought it would be to wrangle her father into letting her go off for a few days to address other responsibilities she had acquired, a fact which somehow made her feel even worse, though she was dying to get out of the rut she had been shunted into. Briefly considering that she may have turned into an adrenaline junkie after excitedly thinking about killing more mercs, she got a rather distracted hug from James and then started back out towards the ghoul city by way of Anacostia Crossing Station.

The Metro had refilled with an assortment of ferals, raiders and the ever-present squads of Talon Company, and Cort felt better every time she killed something. Part of it was due to the fact that Charon was taking any left-over aggression and directing it into increasingly adept bouts of kissing the living daylights out of her, fueled by a week of being restricted by others. By the time they emerged out of the Museum Metro around mid-afternoon she felt like she was practically melting her armour off, while the ghoul was showing nothing more than a reserved air of satisfaction, pleased he was successfully mastering the new skill.

"So are you just going to keep torturing the hell out of me with that or move on to other stuff?" She flushed again as he smirked at her.

"Eventually, when I'm ready. Torturing you is fun." He sobered after a moment. "I'm-I'm not sure..."

"Don't worry about it, you'll figure it out, and I meant it, however fast or slow you want to go, I'll be set." _I'm set NOW, oh holy jumping Jesus. If he starts doing that without the plating in the way I'm going to lose it entirely_. She waved to Willow from across the courtyard, getting a nod in return, then entered back into the ghoul city, relaxing in the cool interior. Pausing once she had passed through the inner doors and into the concourse, she sniffed discretely. The building didn't have nearly as strong a scent this time, although she correctly chalked that up as a result of having been in such close contact with Charon. Running her tongue over her lips she suppressed a pleasant shudder. _He even _tastes_ like leather and copper. I wonder what the rest of him_- Cort shook out of her salacious reverie when Winthrop came over to her, smiling hopefully.

"Cort! Long time no see. Got any scrap metal? I'm dying here. Charon." Winthrop gave the massive ghoul floating behind the girl a small nod before returning to look at her, his smile returning.

She grinned back, unslinging her pack. "I think I got a few pieces kicking around somewhere. How's things?" The caretaker shrugged at her nonchalantly.

"Oh, same shit, different day. I finally got over to junction AC22, and the damned thing _was_ on fire. Nearly lost what's left of my hair putting it out. And AC88 is missing parts, specifically _all_ of them, so I need all the scrap I can get." Cort pulled out a few clumps of jagged metal and assorted parts and handed them over, Winthrop eagerly taking them one by one and stuffing them into the pockets of his faded coveralls.

"Ever find out where that stench was coming from?"

"Molerat. I just up and left it there, thing's practically soup. Moving it would stink up the place even worse, so I'll just have to wait for it to dry up and then scrape it off."

"You've got such a wonderful job, Winthrop."

"I know, it's the height of glamour. Stop by before you go again, okay?"

"Sure thing, I need to ask you about something later anyway." Cort waved happily to him as he left and then turned back to Charon, walking down the long hall with him. "Okay, I need to go speak to Barrows about some things, so if you can just wait out here for a minute please? I'll be right out."

"_What_ things?" Charon narrowed his eyes, not wanting to be separated no matter who was involved. Particularly since_ this _who had previously taken pieces off of her.

"_Girl _things, that's what. Just wait by the statue again, please."

"You fucking better not come out with parts missing." Charon picked her up with one long arm and hugged her, ignoring the gapes from the ghouls around them.

"I won't, don't worry. Now put me down, I want to go visiting." _I also want to ask Barrows some detailed questions you don't need to know about_. He complied after squeezing her harder for a moment, then went to go stand where she had directed. Cort took a moment to watch him go before heading into the Chop Shop, Dogmeat heading to his favourite place beneath one of the gurneys. "Hey Doc, hey Nurse Graves."

"Hello Cort!" She smiled as the pink-haired ghoul came over and gave her a friendly hug while Barrows glanced up from the clipboard he was scribbling on, standing next to Meat and Ethel's enclosure.

"Cort. What part of yourself have you screwed up this time?"

"Hey! I'm perfectly fine at the moment, thank you. I just wanted to see you guys and uh, ask some questions." Barrows grinned dryly at her affronted response and flipped to a new page.

"Well, go ahead. It's not about the...matter we discussed the last time you were here, is it?" He looked over at Graves' back, the nurse having returned to the terminal she usually occupied during the day.

"No, not that, I've kinda come to terms with that. I sort of need, uh, relationship advice."

Barrows raised a ruined eyebrow at her before returning to his scribbling, shooting a dirty look in Graves' direction when she made what sounded suspiciously like a giggle.

"I wouldn't say I'm the best person for you to come to, Cort. You should really ask your father about something like that, I heard that you found him on the radio."

"Weeell he doesn't really have the field of expertise I'm looking for. See, uh, I'm involved with Charon."

Barrows jerked and let go of his clipboard, the thin wood clattering against the floor as his head came up, the doctor staring at her full on.

Graves spun around to talk to her as the other ghoul slowly bent over to retrieve his dropped item, not taking his eyes off her. "_Charon_?"

Instantly on the defensive, Cort straightened up and faced the nurse. "Yes, Charon. Why, what's wrong with that?"

"In the first place, it's just rather..._startling_ for a smoothskin to, well. And _Charon_? _Really_?"

"Yes, _really_." Cort started rubbing the back of her right arm, fidgeting under the woman's scrutiny and shooting looks at Barrows, who had tossed the clipboard onto a work table, now looking at her speculatively. _Fuck does _everyone_ have to act weird about this?_ She winced as Graves continued and started to back up towards the door. This had been a distinctly bad idea.

"He's just so...so...really now_, Charon_?"

Barrows cleared his throat, glaring at the nurse. "Graves, isn't there work you're supposed to be doing instead of making the girl feel uncomfortable about herself? _Really_ now."

Chastised, the woman turned back to the terminal as he beckoned to Cort with one hand. "Come on over and let's find out what you need to know and if I can answer it." She followed him to the other end of the room, still fidgeting self-consciously.

"It's not really a relationship thing, more a question about physiology."

Barrows mouth briefly quirked and he looked amused before falling back into his accustomed clinical expression. "Well if you're worried about _that_, sentient ghouls are fully functional in that regard."

Cort flushed. "No, _that's_ not what I'm worried about. Look, I already know that if I manage to live as long as I'm supposed to, I'm still going to die first. I try not to think about it. What I am worried about is him going...feral before that. Or at _all_. I don't know how it works and I want to know how to prevent it."

Barrows barked out a sour laugh. "If I knew _that_ it would certainly solve a lot of problems. All I can give you is theories." Barrows hauled a stool out from under a table and kicked it over towards Cort before sitting down on one of his own. "'Ferocious post-necrotic dystrophy', as I call it, or 'going feral' for the layman, happens when the reasoning and critical thinking portions of a ghoul's brain deteriorate. All that remains is the most basic instinct to feed, generally directed towards anything that moves. Considering the amount of bite marks you've managed to come in here with, I'd say you've most likely had more than enough experience with that."

Cort grimaced, placing her hand over the knotted scar on her right wrist. "Yes."

"There could be multiple factors, or only a few, or one. There's the possibility that every ghoul could end up succumbing to it, but that is very unlikely considering there are more than a few of us in Underworld alone who have been around since before the Great War, myself included. Carol is another excellent example. It's also possible that along with whatever factor makes a person able to turn into a ghoul sometimes comes with another that means they will degenerate, although non-social ghouls seem to be more prone to the condition. Those who have not been exposed to an obscene amount of severe radiation seem to make out better as well. I wouldn't worry too much about Charon in regards to the latter, considering there was never much of an opportunity for him to be exposed to outrageous levels of it, at least not since he came here. Even if it _is_ a factor, it would probably require long-term exposure, again at critically high levels. I would say the small amounts you yourself can normally handle would not be an issue for him, so don't be too concerned with trying to avoid all of it, it's still physically beneficial for both of you. As for the former, your mouth should run enough to stave it off, as long as you don't drive him crazy on your own."

She looked at him, worry still painted over her features. "Gee, thanks so much." Barrows reached over and clumsily patted her on the shoulder.

"Don't worry Cort. I would say you have an exceptionally long time before you would have to, if at all. Contrary to popular belief, Charon never struck me as being particularly dense whenever he ended up in here over whatever new stupidity Ahzrukhal had managed to put him up to, which will help. You getting a hold of him is also probably the best thing that could have happened in terms of keeping him socialized. Considering how..._unconventional _you are, I wouldn't be surprised if you've already noticed positive behavioural changes in him." He looked at her speculatively as she nodded, expression brightening, then quickly mixing with suspicion as he continued talking. "And speaking of it, there was one particular sample I was looking for to help with that facet of my research."

"Whaaat do you want to do to me now." Barrows rubbed his hands together and smiled as she slumped.


	54. Working Up

**Cort** had left her armour and pack behind in the clinic, her back too sore to carry anything immediately after suffering through the spinal tap Barrows had finally wheedled her into submitting to. It had taken every fibre of nerve she could scrape up to keep from screaming at the new torture, not wanting Charon to hear and come running. _It doesn't fucking count anyway. I didn't _lose _anything, I just sort of...leaked a little._ On the up side, Barrows had placated her with a holotape referring to the runaway android when she had asked about it, and he had been so positively _giddy_ over the sample of radiation treatment from Moira that she wasn't in too bad a mood by the time she left.

"Why the hell is your armour off?" Charon fell into stride beside her as she passed, looking at her suspiciously.

_Aw damnit_. Cort thought fast and avoided eye contact, turning towards the stairs. "It was uncomfortable, and I don't need it right now, so off it came." Still looking at her queerly, as if expecting to find a hunk of her missing, he followed her up to Carol's. Coming in, she was almost bowled over by the little woman herself. _Hugs. Hugs are awesome_. Cort grinned and squeezed her back, waving the little wrapped package around. "Hi Carol! Got a letter for you." Letting go of her, Cort dropped down into one of the chairs around the front table, Charon following suit after he had removed his pack and helmet.

"Hello dear! Thank you so much for bringing it! I have another few for you to take with you, if it won't put you out too much?"

"'Course not. It might be a little while until I get back though, I'm only on a short trip out from the Jefferson. I have to get back to my Dad soon."

"Oh yes, I heard on the radio, that man does love to talk about you and your father. And don't worry about being in a rush, just whenever you can manage, dear. After all, if there's one thing I have, it's time." Carol patted her cheerily and then set about feeding them both, flipping a hand at her when she tried to pull out caps. "None of that. It's your delivery fee, just like last time. Are you going to stay the night?"

"Yes Carol, please. We're going to Vernon Square tomorrow and it's kind of late to start now."

Charon glanced up warily from his bowl of noodles. "We're not going back to that damned hospital again, are we?"

"Nope. I want to get to Vault-Tec Headquarters for Agatha. She said her great-great-grandmother's Vault was listed there, and there's probably all kinds of neat stuff we can sell. We're getting lower on caps than I would like, we haven't done any decent scavving in a while."

Grunting, he finished eating and waited for Cort, who put down her bowl a moment later and stood up. "What now?"

"Now I'm going to go see everyone. Coming, or...?"

"Hell _no_. I'll go over all of our shit or something, just find me whenever you're done making people's ears bleed." He hauled his pack up on the table after looking to Carol for permission, the woman giving him a double-take after he snaked an arm out to hug Cort around the waist before she left, her leaning down to press cheeks with him.

"Okay. I'll go bring my stuff up for you."

Cort spent the rest of the evening hanging around her different friends, while Charon occupied himself with their equipment after she had retrieved hers from the clinic and removed Dogmeat's from him. Once that was finished, he wandered around the concourse, finishing up inside the 9th Circle. Smirking, he looked up at the stains left by the parts of Ahzrukhal that had obtained enough momentum to reach the ceiling, then turned to the rest of the bar. No one had reoccupied it as a business, and the rooms appeared to have been converted into a common area, with extra cots laid out. Turning, he faced the spot he had lived half his life in, unmoving as other ghouls went around him.

Searching for him when she was finally ready to turn in, Cort found him still staring pensively at the corner he had occupied for so long, Dogmeat now sitting beside him. Charon looked down as she bumped against him. At some point Snowflake had gotten a hold of her, and her hair was back in the ludicrous crest she had had when he had first spotted her, clean and fluffing out all over her head.

"Come on Charon, it's late." Ignoring the dirty looks from a few of the residents who were bunking down in the bar, including Carlo, she worked her left hand into his right one and tugged, the big ghoul complying a moment later. They made their way around the deserted balcony, Cort looking up at him questioningly. "What were you doing in there? I'd have thought you would've had enough of staring at those stupid walls to last a lifetime."

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"How differently things have turned out from what I thought they would be." Charon pulled back on her hand and then wrapped both of his arms around her. Cort looked up at him, smiling.

"What, you weren't expecting a nutbar Vault dweller to come drag you out of there some day?"

"I was expecting to be chained to the corner like a freak once I went feral and lost my fucking marbles." She shut her eyes as they suddenly started to sting and pressed her face into his chest, her smile gone.

"I won't let that happen." Charon snorted, stroking the back of her neck.

"I don't think you get to have a say in that."

"Well, you're definitely not in the corner anymore, are you?"

"No."

"Then don't worry. I'll take care of you, promise." Picking her up when she tugged on his shirt, he carried her back into Carol's, striding over to the beds they had occupied the last time and depositing her on the nearest one. He paused, looking down at her.

"Where do you want me." They had spent the last week sleeping on opposite sides of Dogmeat, neither comfortable with the negative attention received back at the Jefferson for publicly displaying affection to each other, Cort because it hurt her, and Charon because it hurt Cort. James hadn't pushed again after his last conversation on the matter and was true to his word about supporting her decision, but several people visibly disapproving at once had become extremely wearing and driven her into herself. Since they were only spending a single night in Underworld and in Carol's, she decided wanted to take as much advantage of their time together as possible.

"Oh God, right here, there's nobody around to get in a snit about it. Even if there is, I'm tired of missing you. Just keep me from falling out, these things are narrow." Carefully curling himself behind her, he tucked her against his chest and wrapped an arm around her waist as Dogmeat hopped onto the unoccupied bed and made a nest out of the blankets, looking pleased with himself as he settled into it. "Once the Project Purity is up and running, we are taking a run back to Megaton and moving your bed next to mine. If that's all right with you, anyway."

Pushing up on his elbow, Charon nipped at her ear before laying back down, closing his eyes and relaxing in the heat coming off of her. "What do you think."

"I think I'm happy."

* * *

**The** three of them left early the next day, Cort acquiring another holotape from Winthrop in regards to the android and clearing Tulip out of all the extra ammo, grenades and Stimpaks she could afford from the little store. Considering the odd looks she had gotten from more than a few people upon waking, Cort got the impression that sleeping in the same bed with Charon had been as big a deal here as it would have been back at the Jefferson, even if the reactions weren't overtly negative. If anything, people looked distinctly puzzled, although there was so many reasons for that to choose from, she wasn't quite sure if it was just one motivating the weird expressions or all of them. Clipping the last of her armour into place after returning to Carol's, she went to talk to her before setting out, little woman speaking to her as she walked over.

"Honey are you...and Charon..." Carol stopped, flustered.

Tired of the attention being paid to her personal affairs as a whole, Cort decided to be purposely obtuse. "Am I what?"

"Are you all right? Are you doing well together, sweetie?" She melted in the face of the other woman's concern, so far the only person who had asked about their well-being instead of voicing an unwanted and unsolicited opinion.

"We're both doing extremely well Carol, thank you for asking. Fantastically, wonderfully, amazingly well, even." She looked over towards the other room, where Charon was patiently struggling to get Dogmeat's armour on, the dog continually pushing his head up under the ghoul's hands, getting more insistent in his unending quest to get ear rubs out of him. _ I really need to tell him what that means before they drive each other totally flipping bonkers._ Cort shrugged and turned back to Carol, smiling. "Don't worry. Everything's fine. I'll see you when I get back through again, 'kay?"

"Don't be too long dear, it's so nice to see you." Leaning in for another hug, Cort waved goodbye to her as Charon came over to join her, finally having succeeded in dressing the dog. Carol watched the big man silently run a hand through the girl's hair before carefully snugging her helmet into place, and she stood staring at the door for a little while after it had closed, smiling softly.

"Two hundred years and I can still find good things to surprise me. Not a bad day. Not a bad day at all."

* * *

**Pushing** into Vernon Square sometime before noon, they paused to patch up the smattering of wounds they had managed to accumulate, Freedom Street Station having filled partially up again in the gap since they had last gone through.

"Maybe eventually they'll stop coming back in here. They have to run out at some point."

"We could only be so fucking lucky. What's next?"

"Vault-Tec HQ is on the far side of the square, it's past where we've been." Cort drew her mouth up into a moue of distaste, looking at her Pip-Boy. "There'll probably be more of those damned boogers over there."

"Fucking typical if there is." He tilted her arm around, staring at the screen. "Look, we can get closer through the Metro Junction instead of slogging all the way through the open. It'll pop us right out next to the building."

"Sounds good to me. I'll take more raiders or shit over mutants any day."

Streaking out of the Freedom Street entrance, they quietly made their way over to the other gate and down into the underground again, clearing out the few raiders and feral ghouls that occupied it before reemerging at the far end of the Square. Fighting through a small cluster of mutants, Cort spotted the building she was looking for a minute later. Boxy and with a massive 'VAULT-TEC' sign running up the front, it looked like a massive distressed radiator, the roof peppered with rusted antennas and satellite dishes.

"Well, that's it. Let's see what we can find."

"Annoying shit that will try to fucking kill us."

"Pessimist. This was your idea, you know."

Coming into the dim, cavernous lobby, they found vague sounds of fighting and more crumbling walls, dust puffing up from wherever they walked. Streaming down from the upper levels were the echos of energy weapons and mutants bellowing. Charon scowled. "Fucking fabulous. Robots. I fucking hate robots."

"Well at least they're killing the mutants for us." Cort stared towards the front desk, looking up at a pristine copy of Vault 101's door suspended over it, her face carefully blank.

"It'd probably be better the other way around." He dug through his pack, hauling out pulse grenades and slipping them into his belt pouches as the noises upstairs increased. "We're lucky we haven't had to use these much, I've got a ton of them. You remember how these work?"

Tearing her eyes away from the massive steel plug, she turned back to Charon, carefully reciting what he had taught her. "Big fat EMP, limited radius, can still fuck me up a little if I get caught in it."

"Good girl. What did I tell you about Sentry Bots?"

"Get right the fuck in their grill, they can't shoot me if I'm between the fucking arms."

"Right." Waiting until the sounds had stopped, they moved deeper into the building. It proved to be even more confusing than the Statesman had been, and they had to turn around more than once after running up against caved in walls and collapsed floors, the still-functioning overhead lights scattering everything with misleading shadows. Emerging from nearly all of them were robots, robots and more robots. Protectrons, Mister Gutsys, Robobrains, and an alarming amount of Sentry Bots. All three of them had a hellish drag upwards, avoiding sonic attacks, flamers, energy weapons, bullets and the occasional missile with varying degrees of success, and Cort thanked their lucky stars that she had managed to acquire new bottles of glowing water and a surplus of Stimpaks. She did it all over again after coming up to the next floor of the building as she was spattered with several bullets, having missed an overhead turret which Charon rapidly blew apart with his shotgun. Swearing, she poked around the front of her armour.

"Fuck. I'm going to need new plates in front, these are fried. Let's see if we can find an office we can close up." Slinking through the first door she came to, she was rapidly driven back by yet another turret. "FUCK!" Ducking to the side, Charon took it out the same way as before while Cort hit the floor, hissing loudly as she staggered back into the room "Shut the damned door, that went straight into me." Closing it, the ghoul came rapidly over to her, crouching and carefully pulling her helmet and pack off.

"How many."

"Two or three by the feel of it. Goddamnit, I fucking _hate_ turrets."

"Can't that piece of shit see them?"Charon waved a hand towards her Pip-Boy, which was coated with her blood. Disgusted, Cort slatted it off the screen with the edge of her hand, then twirled one of the dials.

"The piece of shit can't tell what things are aside from wanting to kill me, and all the broken corridors in here are playing hell with it. The most I can find out is 'something vaguely that way is an asshole'. You can drop a warhead on it and it'll still work, but give it three dimensions to see in and it has a hissy fit." She patted at the left side of her armour and grimaced. "You''re going to have to get this off and then the stupid slugs, there's no way I'm going to make anything but a hash of it with my right hand." Snapping her Pip-Boy light on, she watched Charon haul the battered little lantern out of her pack and her hemostats, a Stimpak joining them a moment later. After peeling off her chest plating and ragged shirt, he held up the lantern and examined the two holes in her left shoulder critically.

"You got fucking nailed all right. You want a Med-X?"

"Nah, screw it. I'll just suck it up."

"Your funeral."

"That is _so_ encouraging, thank you for that. Just do it, I've had worse." Cort stared around the room as he gently dug around inside the wounds, her eyes focusing in on a working terminal. _Oh thank God, I thought there wasn't a working one in this shitpile of a building. Maybe I can turn the fucking turrets off._ Wincing as the ghoul hauled out the two slugs and jammed the Stimpak into her chest, she scrambled over to it before the holes had finished closing up. Charon rapidly pulled her back and into his lap, a restraining arm around her waist as he sat down. "Hey! I need to check that thing out."

"You need to stop impersonating a dumb shit full of holes first. Wait until you at least stop bleeding, you ditz." Cort gave up and leaned back against him, closing her eyes.

"Fine, but then I need to get into that terminal. Carpe diem, and all that."

"Crap _what_?"

Cort chuckled. "Carpe, not crap. '_Carpe diem quam minimum credula postero_'. I read it in a book. It's Latin, a dead language. Probably pretty Goddamned dead now. Anyway, basically it means do all you can today, in case tomorrow never comes. Personally I think it is an excellent philosophy to live by, especially in this shithole world." She sat still for a few more moments, then started squirming uncomfortably as the medication took hold entirely. "Can I get up now? Everything's itching like mad, so I _know_ it's fine."

"What? Yeah, go on." Charon let go and watched her immediately attack the terminal, kneeling in front of the desk and muttering to herself. The eerie green glow coming off the screen backlit her curves and the wild spikes of her hair flicking around as she scratched vigorously at her shoulder. At some point a Mister Gutsy had managed to hit her from behind, and there were the remains of a plasma burn on her side, slowly starting to disappear as the Stimpak kept working. Quietly pulling over her damaged armour, he took spare plates out of Dogmeat's pouches and started repairing it, thinking about things as he did so. At some point he was going to have to go further with whatever it was Cort wanted to do with him, and her statement about not having a tomorrow had jarred him into wanting to make a serious effort at it at the first available opportunity, finding it to be an accurate assessment. _At least here she doesn't have anything to throw herself the fuck off of if I chicken out again. There was one of your life's greatest moments, running away from an unarmed teenager._ Snorting in recollection of his cowardice and vowing to not succumb to it again, he pulled the top of his own armour off and repeated the treatment he had just given Cort's, then checked over the dog. Teeth and claws not being particularly effective against metal, she had ordered the animal to stay to the back and he was relatively unscathed. Charon looked up again as she spoke, still pecking away at the keys.

"Apparently I can turn off the security robots from here and access the mainframe if I find a couple more terminals on this floor. Although what the Christing point of being able to shut them down up here is, I don't know. We've already killed most of them. And it doesn't even work on the stupid turrets." She brought up another screen and frowned. "And what the hell is a 'Masterbrain'?"

"Probably something _supremely_ annoying that will try to fucking kill us. Come on over and get your shit back on." Picking up her shirt Charon examined it critically and then wadded it into a ball after deciding it was more holes than fabric, flicking it across the room. Digging a spare one out of her pack, he rolled it up and carefully pulled it over her head before grabbing up her armour, putting it into place after Cort had tugged the shirt all the way on. "There. Now try learning to look the hell up."

She rolled her eyes as she tugged her helmet and pack back into place. "I know how! I just kind of overlook the ability sometimes."

"Next time try to overlook the bullets. It'll save time."

Finding another room with another terminal and turret as they continued around the floor, she was prepared this time and blew it out with her repeater before rapidly moving in front of the desk. "There, see? Got it."

"Finally."

Finishing up with the security protocols she needed to access, she pulled a face at him and then blinked in surprise when he made one back. Smiling, she nudged against him on the way to the door. "You've never done that before."

"I haven't done a lot of things I need to get around to." Flushing as he rubbed behind her ears, Cort slipped back out into the hallway, sliding down the wall and looking for the next office, cracked paint flaking off and scattering as she brushed up against it. Taking a quick look at her Pip-Boy she frowned, and then held up two fingers as she approached the corner of the hallway, peering carefully around it. She shot back an instant later and crashed into Charon as a sonic blast slammed into where she had been standing. Wide-eyed, she looked up at the ghoul.

"Masterbrain is definitely something that wants to kill us. It's like a jumped up Robobrain. With a helmet." Jerking her head back as a tinny female voice issued from around the corner, she raised her repeater as the ghoul pulled out a pulse grenade.

"_I calculate your chance of success to be...well, I don't want to be morbid..._"

"Fucking fabulous. I hate it when they talk." Charon threw the grenade, banking it against the far wall and sending it around the corner, Cort sliding out past it when the explosion cleared. She was stunned almost immediately by another sonic pulse, the shot she had begun to fire going wild and slamming into the ceiling above, raining dust over her as she sprawled back on the floor.

"Stronger, oh fuck it's stronger than the normal ones! Throw another, throw _another_!" Charon cocked his arm back as the robot rolled into view, dim light from the working fixtures in the hall shining off the reinforced dome over the braincase, a faded 'VAULT-TEC' printed across the front of it. Appearing to register Cort as non-threatening, it turned its attention towards him.

"_Please believe me when I say I'm not enjoying this_."

Swearing, he shoved himself to the side as the apologetic nightmare fired off a volley of its lasers, grenade in one hand and shotgun in the other. "I can't, you're inside the fucking blast zone AND my shot radius, get up and get out of there!"

"_You could run? I'm trying to kill you, you know_."

She scrambled up behind the Masterbrain and banged immediately into the wall, tipping over like a drunk turtle as she hit the floor again. "I couldn't find my ass with my fucking elbow right now, _just THROW IT_!" Complying with the order, he then ducked as the grenade went off, Cort curling up into a spastic ball to avoid the flash of light billowing out around her. Charon darted over as soon as it cleared and jammed his shotgun into the robot's neck and fired, blowing it apart and sending bits of brain and metal everywhere, including all over his employer. "Oh my God what just hit me, aaaaw _shit_. It feels like Jello made out of piss and tinfoil." Trying to get up again, she made it as far as her knees before slowly crumpling back down, helmet clunking against the torn linoleum. "You know what just come get me when you're ready, I'll be right here."

"I'm here right now." Sitting beside her he gently tipped her back up into a sitting position, nudging her continually upright as he removed her helmet.

"There's three of you. No wait, now five. No...aaw _fuckit_." Cort fell forward, leaning against his chest. Reaching over her, Charon dug a Stimpak out of her pack and wrapped his other hand firmly around the back of her neck as he placed the needle behind her ear.

"Cort."

She sighed, bracing her hands on his thighs. "I know. Just do it, otherwise I'm going to end up puking on your crotch." The ghoul rammed the syringe in, holding her tightly as she flailed around. Pulling it out when it was depleted, he threw it across the floor and hugged her briefly before pushing her up again, peering into her eyes.

"Better?" Blinking erratically, she slowly focused in on him as he stroked her hair.

"Much. You're back to one you now. Let's go finish this shit and get out of here."

* * *

_Shout out to the new reviews and alerts! _


	55. Finally

_Minor architectural modification - I added glass walls to the mainframe walkway. Hope nobody minds, I thought it was worth it ;)_

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* * *

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**Cort** gave the Masterbrain a solid mule kick after Charon had helped her up, looking satisfied when it crashed over and split open on the floor, then picked up her repeater and headed for the last hostile signal registering on her Pip-Boy. Busting the door in she immediately blew apart the final turret before it could home in on her, snarling triumphantly as it exploded.

"That's right you little bitch, try shooting me _now_! ...Oh holy crap." Boggling, she looked back down and directly into the Mainframe room, a corner of which jutted into the area she was in, the intruding walls nothing but a massive corner of glass. It was at least three stories tall, cavernous and illuminated by the red lighting strips running up the individual towers, a central core connected to the outside by a long walkway. Absently flicking the last of the brain matter off of herself, she walked over to the final terminal and started tapping away after setting her repeater against the desk. "Okay, I finish with this and we can get in there." She shot an avid glance into the other room before returning to the screen.

Charon leaned in the door, looking at her speculatively. "So it's a secure room, right?"

"Probably _very _freaking secure if it takes this much effort to get into it. I bet you can't get into it any other way, aside from the terminals. Ha! There we go. Okay, let's go get our goodies." Grabbing up her gun she practically jogged down the remaining hallway, double-checking her Pip-Boy to make sure she wasn't stumbling into anything again. Coming into a dim little corridor she located a small room behind a gate. Swinging it open, she found one of the levered security doors that had been so familiar in the restricted areas of the Vault at the far end. Twisting the control dial, she grinned broadly as it retracted, then strode into the Mainframe room, Charon and Dogmeat entering after her.

"It's fucking _freezing_ in here." The ghoul rolled his shoulders uncomfortably as he removed his pack, then poked at the glass walling the corridor, drawing his hand back from the cold surface almost immediately.

"It's to keep everything from overheating. Computers that size will cook themselves unless they're air conditioned. Pretty neat it's still working, huh?" Cort rapidly strode to the end of the corridor, pulling out a keyboard set under the terminal screen in the mainframe and holding up her Pip-Boy as she typed with one hand.

"_Fantastic_."

"I like it, it feels nice after all that running around...oh awesome! There's the Vault Agatha wanted me to go to and a few other ones. All automatically downloaded into my Pip-Boy, thank you Vault-Tec. 87, 92, that's the music Vault, 106 and 108. 101 is in here too. I wonder if any of the others still have people. There weren't very many left in mine. Hopefully no more insane immortal mad scientists. I've had enough of those, thank you kindly." Going back to the security door after making a few more entries on the terminal, she levered it back into place and locked it, leaning down to scratch Dogmeat around the ears as he sprawled out in front of it. Shuffling out of her pack, she set it down next to where Charon had left his, chatting happily. "There. Nothing's getting through that sucker until I open it. And Dogmeat's got the right idea, it's almost midnight. How about we rest for a while, what do you sa-" Cort was abruptly cut off when Charon spun her around, pushing her helmet visor up and kissing her hard as he worked his hands up the sides of her shirt as far as they would go. Breaking away, she reached up to lace her own over the back of his neck and looked up at him. "Oh. Hi."

"I'm ready to go faster now."

She nervously ran the tip of her tongue over her top lip as he stared at her, chalky eyes intent. "How, uh, how much faster."

"_Very_ fast."

Cort stared back at him for a moment before a guttural noise broke out of her. Slipping her hands down to pull at his armour, she violently flung the pieces she could get loose against the glass walls and mainframe behind him. Charon mimicked her a second later, pulling the rest of his own off before stripping the last of hers.

"Do you know what you're doing?" He reached up and worked both hands into her hair, pausing to rub his thumbs behind her ears.

"What I want. Show me what I want, Cort."

"Are you sure?" He pinned her against the glass, running both hands up the front of her shirt and squeezing as he bit at her neck, making her cry out. Breathless, she pressed her cheek to his. "Oh yeah, I guess you are." She reached around him and started pulling his shirt up, yanking it as high as she could. "Off. All of it, everything. Mine too." Following her lead he stripped her shirt from her as she literally tore off his own, pieces of it flying everywhere as they kissed and bit at each other, Charon finally starting to get as worked up as Cort had been. Lifting her entirely off the floor, he jerked her cargos loose in one motion after pulling her belt free, stripping her feet bare when the pants caught up on her boots. Setting her back down he carefully ran his hands over her, exploring everything as she stared up at him with glassy eyes. "You forgot some stuff." Lightly pressing a hand against his stomach before trailing it down to tug at his belt, Cort stripped her underwear off, shivering a little in the cool air as he hesitantly started removing the rest of his clothing. Looking at him again as he tossed everything into a messy heap, she gaped. _Oh mother Mary help me, _all _of him's over-sized. Shit, this is going to hurt if I'm not careful_.

"What. What's wrong." Abruptly snapping her mouth shut as Charon fidgeted under the scrutiny, she wrapped her arms around his waist to reassure him, closing her eyes as she felt the hardened length of him press against her belly. Grunting at the new sensation, he placed both hands on her lower back and pulled her in tighter, rubbing his fingers in slow circles around the base of her spine. "Why were you staring at me."

"I like staring at you." He tilted his head down to rest against hers, suddenly nervous again.

"What...what am I supposed..."

"Just go along with me, you'll get it. And _don't_ stop, no matter what." Pushing up on her toes and rubbing against him, Cort pressed her mouth back over his, sliding her tongue in and running her hands everywhere she could reach. As he reciprocated her actions, she started trying to get him down and herself into a dominant position where she could control everything, struggling to get him to move and not wanting to break away long enough to tell him as he slid a large hand between her legs. Gasping as his fingers brushed inside her, she pulled on his shoulders even harder.

* * *

**Charon** ran his hands down over Cort's shoulders as he kissed her, feeling her push up against him, the heat baking off of her driving him crazy. He felt like he had back on the carrier before bolting, a strange, pleasant aggression overlying the terror this time. He countered the latter by touching her everywhere, finding comfort in the familiar, now having so much more of her to find it in. Sliding a hand down her side, he brought it over the front of her hip and kept going, reaching in between her legs. If he had liked being touched there, never mind the other results of her first abortive attempt, then most likely she would as well, generally being pleased when he reciprocated anything she had done to him. He froze for a split second as his long fingers discovered something warm and slick, something she _definitely_ liked having touched, and the pieces in his head suddenly clicked into place, instinct winning out over instruction. Charon had just figured it out. Dimly noticing her insistently pulling on his shoulders and taking it as a direction, he instantly grabbed one of her thighs in each hand and lifted her straight up into the air before bringing her back down again, hard.

Roughly forcing his way inside, he found it much harder than he expected it to be, considering how soft and small she was. Soft, and unbelievably hot, feeling like a living furnace in the cold air. He had a split second to wonder about what it would feel like to do this while she was irradiated, everything already feeling amazing, before Cort shrieked and started crying. Charon looked down, puzzled, her face buried into his neck as she sobbed. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he stroked her hair and waited for her to calm down, unsure of why she was upset since everything right now felt so incredibly good, so _tight_, but accepting it as another facet of her unpredictable nature. It was killing him to wait, to stay still, when all he instinctively wanted to do was move, to push himself into Cort over and over. Moving an arm down to support her, he held on to his patience. If there was anything he had learned to do over his years in the corner it was how to do those, and he needed to fix her before doing anything else. He could figure out _why_ she was doing it later, and rectify it then.

Eventually feeling the fingers digging into his back relax and start to move tentatively up and down, he moved with them, equally as hesitant, not sure if she was providing instruction that way but willing to risk it. Looking for better traction he pressed her back against the glass, one arm around her waist and the other buried in her hair as he started kissing her again. This was much better, better than _anything_, and he began thrusting harder as Cort brought her legs up around him, rolling her hips in unison with each push he made into her. _Oh fuck, I should have done this before. I should have done this when I _met _her. I'll do this whenever she wants. Whenever _I _want._ Breaking away, he bit at the side of her neck, making her squeal and tighten around him as he used her to work out long years of repressed frustration. Groaning at the feeling, he bit harder, Cort bucking off the glass and into him. Moving within her, he felt a new kind of wet spreading over his ruined flesh, different from the dampness she had left on his neck. Whatever it was, it was slippery, sticky and pleasant. The last of his anxieties burning away, Charon braced one hand against the glass as he pulled on her waist and gave himself up entirely.

* * *

**Cort** was fairly certain Charon had managed to tear something when he entered her, but she was far past the point of caring. Admittedly, this wasn't what she had expected to happen to her, but then what _was_ anymore, and this felt right for where she was now, with him. She whimpered as he pulled at her hair and nipped her jaw before sliding his tongue back into her mouth, kissing her deeply. _Oh God. Every awakening I've ever had in this new life out here has started with pain and blood, why should losing my damned virginity be any different? This is worth it._ What was waking in her now somehow hurt worse than anything else, searing her alive from the inside out as she felt Charon's cooler body next to hers, in hers, but it was a feverish, euphoric agony she decided she would go through over and over again until there was nothing else left to burn.

Pressed against the cold wall, she tilted her head back and splayed her arms out as he bit at her neck again, the metal of her Pip-Boy squealing on the glass as she did, consumed by the sensations coming at her from all directions. Everything smelled intoxicatingly of leather, sweat and copper, some of the last from the blood she knew was coming from her, the scent of it feeling sharp and familiar as she drew it in. _Oh Christ I don't care, I'd bleed for this any day or the damned week. I'll just get a Stimpak, or get irradiated, or something. Oh sweet Jesus, I bet he'd _love_ that_. She opened her eyes again and looked down over his broad back, enthralled at the sight of him moving against her.

Anyone seeing them now would have thought it a nightmare come to life, a writhing girl pinned to the wall by a ragged demon as he savagely thrust into her, slender white legs wrapped around his waist and everything bathed in red light. Cort's hands scrabbled on the slick surface behind her as she arched her hips into him, a rising cloud of condensation working up the glass above her like smoke from the pits of hell, dark stains starting to smear over the inside of her thighs. Both of them descending into an absolute frenzy, Charon impulsively ran his rough tongue up between her breasts, circling around to latch his mouth over the left one as he brought a hand up to squeeze the other, tipping her entirely over the edge.

Eyes rolling back in her head as she screamed his name, Cort felt like she was shattering apart from the inside out, never wanting it to stop. Charon's bellow overlapped hers a moment later as he exploded inside of her, driven by the intense and sudden pressure around him, digging his fingers into her flesh hard enough to bruise. Letting out a long, shuddering breath, she tilted her head forward to rest on his shoulder while he slowly wound down into a series of short thrusts and quiet grunting, spending himself entirely. Bringing her arms up to rest against his own when he stopped, she panted against his neck.

"Well? How was that, then."

Giving one final, experimental push, he put his cheek against hers and nipped at her intact earlobe. "I want more. Now."

She laughed weakly. "I think we're both going to need a minute first. Let me down, I need to clean up a little, I'm all sticky."

"Why? It feels nice. I like it."

"We can make it that way again. Let me down, please." Charon reluctantly slid out of her and set her back on the floor, watching her limp over to her pack and then moving to join her as she pulled out a bottle of dirty water and a clean rag. He reached over and took the items out of her hands, wanting to keep touching her.

"Let me." Wetting the rag, he crouched in front of her and started wiping down the inside of her legs, frowning when he saw how dark the cloth was getting. Eyes going wide, he grabbed her Pip-Boy and snapped the light on for a closer look. "Wha...why are you _bleeding_?" Cort flushed, moving her eyes away from his.

"You went a bit too fast going into me. It's my fault, I should have warned you about being careful starting off."

Charon turned the light off and let go of her arm, dropping his head down to look at the floor.

"_That's_ why you were crying. Fuck, Cort. I can't even make it a fucking week without hurting you."

_Oh shit no, he can't feel bad about this. Nonono, not having that_. "I'd rather be hurt with you than without you. And don't worry, that always happens to girls the first time anyway." Cort shot a discreet glance between his legs, thinking rapidly. "Sometimes even the first _few_ times, so stop feeling bad. I probably couldn't have gone any slower either, I wanted you too much. It doesn't even hurt anymore, really." Cort resisted the urge to cross her fingers at the outrageous lie, currently feeling more sore than she ever had in her life.

Charon looked at her distrustfully as he carefully finished wiping her clean and put the rag and bottle down, not believing her. "Then why do you keep flinching."

She forced a nonchalant grin onto her face and wrapped her arms around his neck as he stood up, then playfully licked up the middle of his chest, making him shiver. "In case you didn't notice, things down there are _sensitive_." Slipping a hand down, she gently grabbed a hold of him and gave a little tug, receiving a low gasp in response. "See? You flinched too." Cort kept fondling him, feeling him slowly stiffen up as a growl rumbled in his chest, his hands starting to trace circles on her hips. "Ready to have more of me now? My turn to drive, though." Letting go, she pulled their blankets loose and shook them out on the floor, nudging scattered clothing and pieces of armour out of the way as she did so. Groaning as Charon came up behind her and started caressing her breasts, she turned around and pushed at him, determined to have complete control this time. "Lie down, there." Straddling him as he did so, she moved to cover him, his hands making fists in the blankets as she slowly slid down around him. Cort shoved firmly on his chest and then grabbed his hands as he tried to push on her hips, lacing her fingers through his and shoving his hands back next to his head. "Oh no. This is what you get for kissing the_ beans_ out of me on the way to Underworld last time."

Tilting his head back as she started to rock slowly back and forth, he tried protesting and failed. "But I want-"

"I want you to stay still. Stay _still_, Charon." Cort moved slowly, feeling her battered flesh complain at the renewed activity as a comfortable flush spread up her spine. "Let's see how long it takes you to go crazy." Smiling down at him wickedly, she leaned over and started biting.

* * *

**Charon** felt positively drugged. Cort had tormented him for a solid hour before turning him loose, and he had promptly rolled her over, practically laying assault to her until he emptied into her again. Right now he was sprawled out with her laying on top of him, one of the blankets pulled out around them, a hand buried in her hair. Tugging gently at it, he lazily rolled his shoulders against the floor.

"It's still cold in here."

Yeah, but I'm warm." Reaching an arm out, she pulled the blankets in tighter around him, tucking in the edges.

"Do you want me to clean you off again?"

"No. It can stay this time, I'm too comfy to move. And way too sleepy."

"No argument from me." Not entirely sure what time it was, he was still fairly certain it was extremely late. _Or early, fuck knows. I don't give a shit if I don't move until next week. Or at all._ Tired, happy and feeling entirely whole for the first time in his life, he drifted off to Cort's warm breath fanning out over his chest.

* * *

**After** she was positive he had fallen asleep, Cort carefully disengaged his hand from her hair and crept over to her pack to withdraw a Stimpak, stifling a hiss as she rammed it home on the inside of one of her thighs. Groaning softly, she felt the unbearable soreness inside of her dissolve into a welcome warm itchiness as she crawled back under the blanket and cuddled up next to the ghoul, being careful to cover as much of him as possible. However much having sex had hurt her, the outrageous pleasure interspersed with it not dulling the discomfort entirely, she had tried to make his first time as positive an experience as she could, not wanting him to have any more emotional hangups. Damaged flesh was easy to heal, damaged minds were another matter entirely. Shuffling up on one elbow she kissed the corner of his mouth, getting a sleepy squeeze somewhere in the vicinity of her rear in return as she settled back down against his side. _Told you I'd take care of you_.

* * *

**While** happy that his world had found the big moon desirable enough to rut with(after all, he wasn't adverse to locating an occasional stray in heat to go after when he could manage, finding it wonderfully satisfying), Dogmeat decided that if at all possible, he would make himself scarce the next time they got up to it. Both of them were entirely too noisy, and went at it for far, far too long. Huffing contentedly at the returning quiet, he finally got back to sleep.


	56. Foreshadowing

**Charon **jerked awake, looking around warily in the dim red light before his head cleared and he remembered where he was, and more importantly, why he was buck naked. Fuzzy minded and cold, he sat up and groaned while rubbing the back of his neck, eyes latching onto Cort after a few moments. At some point she had curled up into a little ball, managing to roll herself entirely up in the blankets, a fluff of black hair the only thing visible. Absently patting at the floor when he noticed how frozen his ass felt, he looked down and blinked. _How the hell did she get _both _of them? I outweigh her by at least a hundred damned pounds._ Shaking his head, he quietly stood up and stretched, smiling beatifically as the motions produced a series of comfortable pops and snaps. Turning back to the swaddled lump on the floor, he considered what to do next. Not particularly enthused with the idea of getting dressed just yet, he crouched and carefully started to unwrap the cocoon Cort had managed to make for herself, finding it surprisingly difficult. Both blankets were somehow twisted up with each other, and her legs were twined up through the loops, making it impossible to locate where to begin. _What the fuck did she do, have a seizure making this? Hell with it, she'll wake up before I'm done anyway._ "Cort. _Cort_." Charon jerked aside just in time to avoid cracking his skull against hers as she shot upright, babbling.

"Invisible squirrels! They're with the _iguanas_, they're going to...Charon? Are we getting up now?" Cort held up her Pip-Boy and blearily squinted at the screen. "_What_? It's not even dawn yet for Chrissakes."

"_You_ took all the damn blankets, and I'm freezing."

"_Oh_. M'kay then." Sleepily standing up, she expertly flicked both of them out after shaking her legs loose, the jumbled cloth straightening out immediately. She flopped back down on her right side and crawled in, yawning and closing her eyes as he looked down at her, incredulous.

"How the hell did you _do_ that."

"Do what?" Charon stared as her feet started twisting up the bottom of the covers, somehow already managing to make a confusing knot out of them. Shaking his head again, he dropped down and got back between them before she could envelop herself, facing her.

"Nevermind." Placing a hand on her hip, he guiltily removed it when she flinched, thinking about the less enjoyable parts of the previous evening.

"_Yikes_, you are freezing. Alright, c'mere." Relaxing as she wiggled over and intertwined herself with him, he pulled her closer, relieved as the warmth started soaking back into him. "Better?"

"Much."

"Good. I make absolutely no promises about not sucking the blankets off of you again later, so enjoy it while it lasts." Pressing her head against his chest, she rapidly fell back to sleep, quiet snores starting up within moments.

Waiting to warm up enough to join her, Charon carefully propped himself up on an elbow, looking down at his employer. At some point he had lost the habit of waiting for her to fall asleep first, and it had been a while since he had watched her. Seeing her face completely still instead of going through its normal state of mercurial expressions, he decided he missed doing it. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but he had started liking every one that she made, usually changing from minute to minute, but it was nice to see her calm for once. He ran a hand through her hair and watched her smile briefly before returning to perfect blankness. Working his fingers back into it, she did it again, the vague little smile remaining on her face this time as he gently played with the wild tufts.

Running his hand down over her back, he let his mind wander along with it, thinking again about how differently things had turned out from what he expected them to be. At first, he had hated the little smoothskin on sight, for being what he wasn't anymore and then purely on principle once she had started making her false overtures to Ahzrukhal, dickering over his contract. There was also the fact that he had flat out hated everyone, regardless of who or what they were. Now, he couldn't stand the thought of being without her. He didn't even particularly like it when he couldn't see her, needing to touch her for reassurance whenever she appeared again, almost having to make sure she was really there. She had even gotten into the habit of absently tilting her head towards him after combat or being separated, knowing that he would want to tug on her hair and ready to fill the need without being asked.

_Fuck, she always does that, knows what to do for me. She knows how to fix anything_. Moving off his elbow, he bent to nuzzle around her cheek. Whatever parts had been broken or taken out of him, Cort had managed to put back in or repair, and her actions of the previous night had given him a way to finally possess his own contract, putting the last piece he needed into place. As long as she was around, he felt whole, and with it, Charon had gone past dutiful loyalty and settled into complete devotion. Moving his hand lower and getting aroused again, he started nibbling on what was left of her ear, then jerked his head back a moment later, startled as she suddenly exchanged snoring for speaking.

"You know, that's making it really, really hard for me to stay asleep."

"Cort?" She cracked her left eye open and tilted it up, the same eyebrow moving with it.

"Yeees?"

"I want to get in you again. Can I?"

"Course you can, I'm yours." Quietly griping, she started nipping at his chest. "You're going to wear me the hell out, though."

Charon gave a contented grunt as he stroked around to the front of her thigh, feeling elated. _Mine. She says she's mine_. He ran his hand up the inside of her leg, sliding his fingers higher, and he groaned out a reply as she bit him harder in response to it. "_Impossible_. The way your damned mouth runs there has to be a fission battery in you somewhere."

"Ha ha, smartass. Why don't you see if you can find it, then."

* * *

**Cort **never made it fully back to sleep. Somewhere around mid-morning, she finally untangled herself from a dozing Charon after Dogmeat started scratching at the door. "Hang on honey, I know, Momma's been...distracted. A lot. For...wow, nine hours? _Really_? Cripes, you must be ready to put out a forest fire by now." Quickly checking her Pip-Boy for any threats, she twisted the dial on the door and levered it out of the way as quietly as possible. "Okay, come right back when you're done and we'll get ready and eat, huh? I'll give you extra for being such a patient boy." Dogmeat whuffed and quickly trotted off to find a suitable corner as Cort stretched and turned back to look over at the sleeping man, comfortably sore this time. Gathering up their scattered clothing and armour, she thought about what she had started. For all his initial reluctance, once Charon had gotten the hang of it, he seemed determined not to let _it_ go. _Three more times. Three! Jesus, he's not a man, he's a damned jackrabbit._ Smiling goofily as she picked up the shredded pieces of his shirt, she proudly admitted to herself that she might have been encouraging him into the behaviour just a tad. _Well, he's not going to be wearing that one again. Oops._

Salvaging the larger pieces for rags, she hauled out a spare shirt for him and grabbed her own scattered clothing, taking up the half-empty bottle of dirty water along with it, then padded out of the room to find her own suitable corner to wash up in. Settling into one of the empty offices, she smiled again, thinking about everything while she sorted herself out. Once he had mellowed a bit, somewhere around their fourth go at it, he had proven to be fairly delicate for such a big man, driving her over the edge with gentle, unrelenting attention. It wasn't that surprising when she thought about it. _Someone trained to use explosives probably wouldn't make it very Goddamned far being heavy handed._ Cort's mouth quirked as she pulled her bra back on, following it with her shirt._ Well, not quite accurate. The _pieces _would probably get pretty far after detonation._ Tugging the rest of her clothes on, she walked back to wake up Charon and get on with the day, happy and ready to go back to the Memorial.

After eating and putting their armour back on, Cort decided she wanted to do something for the ghoul as they walked out of the Mainframe room and down the hallway, still riding on an emotional high. "Charon, how do you open locked doors, anyway? I've never seen you pick one."

Reaching out, he enveloped the knob of the closest door in one massive hand and twisted it, easily snapping it loose in one quick motion and tossing it nonchalantly down the hallway. Cort blinked, her mouth slightly ajar as the other end fell off a second later. "If that doesn't work, kicking it in. If I can't kick it in, controlled explosive charges."

"Well, then come on over here, I want to teach you something for once." Charon ran a hand down her back, slipping his fingers into her waistband.

"I think you did already."

Wiggling at the attention, she walked down to the next door, pulling him along with her. "Naughty. Now pay attention, I'll show you how to do this a few ways. I want to give you something for making last night so nice. This is the perfect type of lock to do it with, it's pretty clunky." Kneeling in front of the door, Cort carefully taught him how to pick the lock open and then how to re-lock it, first with both a bobby pin and a screwdriver, and then with the pin alone, both whole and after breaking it into two parts. She finished by forcing the lock with the screwdriver, grunting as she broke it apart. "You should really avoid this last one unless you really need to do it. Sometimes the lock will jam, and then you're screwed unless you can beat it open or something. Which yeah, _you_ won't be having a problem with." Standing up and brushing the dust off her knees, she decided to do something about another door. "I'm going to go fiddle with the terminals and lock the Mainframe room up so nobody else can get into it. If there _are_ people in those Vaults, I don't want raiders or slavers to end up with the coordinates, it'd be a fucking slaughter if they managed to open them. Can you start stripping that jumped up Robobrain for anything good? Make sure to take some wire out for Wadsworth." Cort blinked, considering something. "Uh. When we go downstairs, don't take anything out of the Mister Gutsys for that though, might be kinda morbid. I don't want to upset him."

"What the hell does the damn thing want wire for?"

"I dunno, but that's what he asked for when I offered to bring him something, so he's getting it. Maybe he needs it for personal reasons."

"What the fuck kind of 'personal reasons' is a robot going to have?"

Cort shrugged and walked down the hallway. "Ask him."

"It'll probably involve some fucked up way to murder us in our sleep." Looking back long enough to roll her eyes at him, she continued towards the first terminal.

Charon snorted and started pulling apart the remains of the Masterbrain, taking out anything useful and several jumbles of wire, neatly coiling them up. Sawing one of the arms open with his combat knife and ripping the corrugated rubber apart, he paused when light from the ceiling bounced off something shiny that looked oddly familiar. Putting the knife down, he yanked on the torn material with both hands, exposing the innards of the arm entirely. Running up the inside were a series of large, highly polished rings wrapped with various wires and straps, pulleys spaced evenly up the middle. He cut the first ring loose and held it up in the dim light, running his thumb over the smooth edges of the band as he examined it. About two inches wide and a little more across the diameter, it had the number one etched around the outside of it in four equidistant spots, and was made of the same silvery dark metal as the pacemaker she had used to hide his contract in herself. Setting it down, he pulled the next band loose, this one having the number two on it instead. Getting an idea, he called back over his shoulder.

"Cort. What's your favourite number?"

Her puzzled voice drifted back from somewhere down the hall. "What? _Why_?"

"Curious."

"Oh, uh. Eight. Dad calls it upright infinity, I always thought that was really neat. He said that was why my Mom liked it too, went along with her favourite Bible verse." Half-listening as Cort continued to rattle on about Fibonacci numbers and aliquot sums, whatever they were, he dug through the dissected arm until he found the correct part and carefully removed it. Getting up, he walked around the hallways, finally finding her leaning over the last terminal in the office abutting the Mainframe room. Moving over to her side, he held the band out in front of her. Cort blinked a few times to focus in on it, stilling her hands on the keyboard. "What's that for?"

"You. For last night. You can wear it if you want." Charon suppressed the urge to fidget as she silently reached up and took the present from him, running her fingers over it and tracing the numbers as the red light from the other room reflected off of it, the expression on her face inscrutable. She suddenly tugged it down over her right hand, broadly licking the skin on the back to make it go on all the way as it got stuck, and he let out a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding as she spun around and hugged him.

"Of _course_ I want. It's awesome, best ever. Thank you."

Grumbling, he self-consciously rubbed at the back of his neck as she let him go. "You're welcome. Now let's get the hell out of here and finish up with this shithole you dragged us into."

"It was _your_ idea, dipstick."

"Jackass."

"Love you too."

* * *

**Descending** rapidly through the building, both of them ripped apart every robot they found, hauling out power supplies, combat inhibitors and scrap, loading themselves and Dogmeat up with everything they could carry. Charon found another Stealth Boy, and Cort discovered several books and magazines, along with a pile of Vault-Tec lunch boxes which she quickly converted into protective cases for medical supplies and other breakables. Slinking carefully out of Vernon Square and back into the Metro around sunset, the ghoul looked over to her as they made their way underground.

"What do you want to do next, more new shit that will probably fucking kill us, or go back to that hellhole Memorial?"

"You always make things sound _so_ attractive. Uuuh, after we go trade this stuff off in Underworld, we should probably go back to Project Purity. I want to make sure everything's all right, it's been a couple days. Besides, maybe now there'll be something Dad'll let me help with that doesn't involve cleaning or shooting."

"I like it when you shoot things." He reached down and tugged the hem of her shirt up, sliding his fingers over her side. Cort shivered and tried to keep her mind on track. If he had seemed to find touching her desirable before, now he appeared to be positively addicted to it. As long as it was tactically safe to do so, he was keeping it up near constantly. If her hands were free, he held one of them. If they weren't, he placed one of his own on her shoulder, or hooked his fingers into her waistband. If they stopped and she wasn't occupied with a task, well. Her lips ended up swollen and her cheeks flushed more than once. Fighting only intensified his advances, and riding on her own adrenaline high made Cort more than aggressive enough to counter them equally with her own, regardless of the location.

Making their way though the Metro tunnels, they had stopped twice on the way back to the Mall to barricade themselves inside the closest available room, and after killing a particularly vicious party of raiders who had reoccupied a fortified service area they hadn't even bothered with that. Once she had checked her Pip-Boy, Charon had loosened her belt enough to jerk her cargos down partway, and after removing the plating over his hips to get at his own he had pushed her over the nearest pile of sandbags, too desperate to do anything else. After they had finished, he had carefully redressed them both and then spent a long time doing nothing but quietly stroking the back of her neck, cheek pressed against the top of her helmet as he held her to him.

"Cort, how long are we going to have to stay at that fucking Memorial?"

"I don't know. At least until they get Project Purity running again, whenever that'll be. I can ask for an estimate though. You don't want to go back, do you."

"_Fuck_ no, but I understand how important it is, and you need to be around your dad. You went nuts trying to find him, you'd probably lose your marbles entirely if you lost sight of him again. The reason I don't want to go back is because you get upset when those assholes start treating you like shit, and I _know_ why they do it, it's my fault. I don't need a mirror to know I'm a fucking monstrosity."

Digging her fingers into his back, she started to get her own up. "_No_, it _isn't_, and you're _not_."

"Not to _you_, for some batshit reason. But to just about every other fucker out there, _and_ me, I am. It doesn't matter. You need to stop letting it bother you." Cort fisted up the sides of his shirt and shook her head back and forth vehemently.

"No. I won't accept that."

He tightened his hand briefly as her voice cracked and Charon sighed, unwilling to wind her up over something so unimportant. "Just don't fucking worry about it, Cort. You can't do anything about it anyway."

"_Don't_ tell me what I can and can't _do_." She was silent for a moment after snapping at him, thinking about things as she got her emotions back under control. "We'll get back, I'll find out what's going on, and it'll be fine. We can't do what we just did, there's no way we could get enough privacy, but we're going back to sleeping the way we usually do. I miss it." Cort snuffled quietly. "Besides, we _have_ to. You keep rolling over on Dogmeat, and it makes him crabby."

"What about everyone else. They're going to give you a hard time."

"I don't care, _fuck _everyone else. They don't matter, they're beneath me." Charon picked her up and spun around, grinning as he coaxed her into laughing with the motion.

"That's my girl. You're finally getting it." He paused and started thinking, wanting to make sure he had distracted her entirely. Remembering something, he looked into her eyes, his mouth starting to twitch.

"So. Cortenay? That's the whole thing?"

Cort narrowed her own. "Cortenay Catherine Schafer, if you must know. Why."

"Nothing, it's just that Cort_enay's_ so fucking _girrrly_." He held her tighter as she struggled to get down, affronted by the teasing.

"_Whaat_? This coming out of a big giant man who's named _Charon_. _That's_ a girl's name. It's even a girl's name _twice_ if you want to get into the semantics of pronunciation and-"

Charon did not, and after shoving her visor out of the way he cut her running mouth off with his own, smiling as he did so.

* * *

**"James**, are you sure it was wise to let Cort go off? It's dangerous out here, far more than it was twenty years ago." Having a rare free moment, Li had decided to approach him about her concerns at around the same time Cort and Charon were making their way back to Underworld, finding him working on one of the consoles in the Rotunda, muttering to himself as he dug around inside an open panel.

"I don't _let_ her do anything, Madison. At this point in her life, she's capable of doing what she wants, making her own decisions. She's far too much like me to have any real trouble out there anyway, now that she's up on her feet. She'll be back as soon as she's finished with her errands, her destination wasn't that far away."

"I wasn't referring to the risk she's taking for herself, I'm sure she can manage well enough, especially with a bodyguard. I'm talking about leaving us with inadequate defences. In my opinion, it was very irresponsible for her to leave."

"Well, perhaps if more than half of your staff wasn't looking at her like she was filth she would have been more inclined to stay. It was half the reason I let her go so easily." James smiled at her sardonically as she sputtered before turning back to the console. "I'm preoccupied, not blind. If I didn't need everyone working here, I most certainly would have started punching certain individuals in the throat by now. As it is, I am _extremely_ close to losing my temper."

Madison frowned as his speech became short and clipped, not understanding what he was referring to. "James, what are you talking about? What reason would my staff have to-" Cutting her off with an incredulous snort he turned to face her, a wry look on his face as he scratched at the side of his beard.

"Because of Charon, why else?"

"I can't believe that. As unfortunate as the poor creatures appear, everyone here is intelligent enough to know that they are effectively if not physically human. I'll admit he can be abrasive, but it's understandable, and that certainly wouldn't cause anyone to be hostile towards _Cort_."

James snorted again, shaking his head. "Really now, Madison. Have you honestly been wrapped up in your work enough to _not_ notice that my little girl has managed to pair off with the ghoul? Everyone else sure as shit has."

Li gaped up at him as she caught on, scandalized as her personal morality fell short of her scientific ethics. "_What_? And you _let_ her?"

"Well it's too late for me to do anything _now_. I wasn't exactly around to object, and as I told you, I don't _let_ her do anything. I wanted her to make her own life for herself, and for good or ill..." He paused, smiling slightly at some private thought. "For good or ill, she has started making it with him. Admittedly, it isn't what I had hoped for, but I've had time to mull it over, and I think it could have been far worse, considering. He's devoted, protective, defers to her completely, and I have no doubt he would slaughter anyone who gave her so much as a _paper cut_ without a second glance. What more could a protective parent ask for?" James' mouth quirked for a moment. "It also doesn't hurt that he's built like a brick shithouse, as Garza so colourfully put it. The sight of him alone is an excellent deterrent. So. I would appreciate it immensely if you would impress upon your staff the need to find their manners before they get back. Hmm? Do you think you can you do that for me?"

Looking at him, Li was held by the sudden emptiness in his eyes, unable to tear herself away from it or disagree, like so many other people he had managed to talk into doing things for him over the years. "Of course, James, whatever you say."

He turned back to the open panel, new warmth replacing the coldness. "Excellent Madison, thank you kindly. I also have things Cort can assist with now once she returns, which should help make her feel better. Once we have everything up and working, I'll have the time to teach her how everything operates and how to maintain it. I want to make sure she has a secure position in the future, and being in charge of the project will protect her, and the ghoul. It's the best gift I can give her. I trust I can count on you to assist me in that?" James raised an eyebrow at her and smiled approvingly as she silently nodded. "After all, someone's going to need to do it. Neither of us is going to live forever." Frowning, he closed the panel. "I am most emphatically _not_ leaving it up to the Brotherhood. I'm sure you'll agree with me in that."

Relieved for the change of subject, Li latched onto it instantly. "Completely. A military organization should not be entrusted with something that has the potential to be so incredibly powerful. Their motives become too easily clouded, polluting the pure science. We can't allow the work to become corrupted."

"I'm glad we see eye to eye. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to finish up in here. I'm trying to work out the safety issues we've been having with the radiation purge, Daniel brought it to my attention yesterday morning. If the Purifier currently overloads with anyone in here, it will kill them instantly. Not exactly what I would call a useful feature."

* * *

_Hey peeps! Thanks for the new reviews, PMs and faves! So, after looking for close to half a year, it looks like I **finally** have a job again, starting sometime in the near future(I need to take a licence exam from the justice department and a CPR course, so it'll be a teensy while before I'm working full time). Then I'll be a brand new, squeaky clean security guard. I am NOT STOPPING this story! It just means that chapter updates won't be nearly every day like I've been able to manage, but you'll still probably get at least one or two a week. It also means I can afford to eat something other than Wonderbread and discount peanut butter. It's totally win-win._

_Oh, and for anyone trying to predict where Cort might be going, I'll leave you with six words: 'Jossed' is my favourite TV Trope. ;)_


	57. Interlude at Project Purity

_Thanks for the reviews and congrats, dudes!_

_

* * *

_

**Cort**, Charon and Dogmeat came back to the Memorial loaded down with ammunition, medical supplies and food at the end of the fourth day after they had left, staying in another Metro room overnight after pressing on from Underworld the previous evening. Leaving her pack with the ghoul to take downstairs, she bee-lined immediately for the Control Room in the Rotunda, correctly guessing her father's location. James looked up from a set of notes he was taking down on a clipboard by the glassed in column of water, smiling at her as the GNR signal drifted softly out of his Pip-Boy.

"Welcome back, sweetheart." Beaming at her, he put the papers aside and hugged his daughter to him. "Did you sort out what you needed to?"

"Parts of it. Remember that escaped android I told you about? I ended up with more holotapes." Holding up her arm, she brought up the recordings one by one for him to listen to. After they had finished, she kept fiddling with the buttons, looking for something. "I don't know when I can find the time to go look for him, but if I've got all of _these_, then that creepy little guy Zimmer or anyone else won't be able to find him either. Or it'll at least be harder for them."

"I'm glad you're taking care of people out here Cort. They're yours, you know, and mine. We're responsible for them."

"I remember. I was born in here, not in some hole." She paused, staring at the screen and working her brows together before looking up at him. "Dad. What happened to Mom after she died? Did you bury her like people out here used to do or..." She stopped as her father sighed quietly, slowly rubbing the back of his neck.

"If you go outside, then scale the wall directly behind you, there's an area of ground right next to the corner of the Rotunda's outside steps, behind the largest trees you'll find out there and hidden behind some large boulders. There, you'll find what appears to be just another random pile of white stones; they're not. There's one for every year of her life. She's there, Cort. I didn't make a more permanent marker because scavengers tend to dig...uh, dig..." Choking back a sudden surge of emotion, James struggled to control his voice and tapped at her right wrist, held over her Pip-Boy. "What's this? This is new. Looks like part of a Robobrain."

Tactfully averting her eyes as he quickly wiped at his own, she held her arm out for him. "Oh. It's a present from Charon, and it is. He pulled it out of a particularly nasty version of one that tried to kill me a couple days ago, after blowing its head off. It's even got my favourite number on it, see?"

Watching Cort spin the titanium band on her wrist with a completely besotted look on her face, James got some of his good humour back as he took her hand to get a closer look. "Yes honey, I see very well. It's very pretty."

Cort flushed and smiled up at him. "Thank you. Actually, I've got something for you, too. Hold your Pip-Boy up, map setting please." Letting her go, James did as she asked and smiled back as Cort transferred the locations of the new Vaults she had found out of her own. "Look! Four more Vaults, and they're not even that far away. I found the coordinates at the Vault-Tec building. Maybe one of them has a G.E.C.K. in it. Cookie?"

Dropping his arm, he reached into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out something she found to be an entirely acceptable substitution. "Apple. Enjoy it honey, it's the last one we have." Taking it and another hug, she backed out of the room and grinned.

"Not anymore, I brought a bunch of food back, thought we might be getting low, I'll still take this though, thanks Dad!"

"You're welcome. Now come back after you settle in and you've finished eating _my supper_, I want to talk to you about some things you can do for me tomorrow!"

Cort's voice floated back in from the other room, garbled from filtering through a full mouth. "Mmpfkay! _Wha_? Yeth Li, I got more Thtimpaks for Gartha. Keep your thkirt on."

James grinned and turned back to his notes as one of the repetitive instrumentals finished playing and Three Dog came back on, the expression quickly turning to a scowl when he started talking about Cort.

"_...that crazy little Vault kid has been seen poking around out in DC again, folks, without her father in tow this time. Word is he's still hard at work down at Project Purity, which my sources are telling me..._"

Irritated, he snapped it off, jabbing at the button on his Pip-Boy and muttering to himself. "The worst mistake I made after coming back out here was talking to _that_ blabbering idiot." When he had managed to teach his daughter enough for her to make a solid effort towards maintaining the Memorial, at least for a limited time, he decided he was going to make a point of trekking out specifically to have a little _talk_ with the DJ, regardless of any positive contributions the man was making. Cort had already outlined her difficulties in trying to stay hidden while the man somehow tracked and broadcast her every move, and it seemed he was repeating the same treatment with James. "Loose mouthed bastard is going to get someone killed eventually."

* * *

**Descending** into the bowels of the Memorial and nodding absently to the members of Li's staff as she went, Cort made her way to the room she had started occupying with Charon when they first moved in, having selected the Pump Control area and eschewing comfort for privacy. Stripping her helmet off and placing it on top of the turbine cover, she pushed up on her toes as he came over to her and then grabbed the neck of his armour, talking to and kissing him at the same time. "Do you know...how crazy...you drive me?"

"You were already...completely batshit...when I met you." He broke away to press his forehead to hers, working his hands into her hair. "You're beautiful. You're mine."

"Only for you." Both of them jumped when a bored voice floated over from the entrance.

"You two are _disgusting_. Particularly you, Cort. How did you even end _up _this way? Wait, I know how, a deadbeat father. Goes along well with being a deadbeat scientist." Heart still pounding in her throat, Cort glared over to where a blonde man in blue coveralls was leaning against the wall, looking in at them.

"I'm a teenager, Daniel. I'm _supposed _to be this way, it's a hormonal compulsion. What's your excuse for being a total prick, trying to make up for your lack of one?"

Ignoring the barb, he jerked his head towards their packs. "Doctor Li said you were back with supplies, including food."

Charon snorted as Cort pulled a face and pointedly turned her back on the man, walking to the far end to strip off her dirty armour. "Yes, not that you're going to fucking get any now. You can wait until we're finished settling back in, shithead."

"Or I can just take out what I want, since they're supplies for the Project."

Charon grinned darkly and moved to where Cort had gone, shaking gore loose from herself as she removed the last of her plating, and started doing the same. "Dare you. _Dog_ dare you."

Sneering, Agincourt had a split second to lay his hands on their packs before Dogmeat boiled up from behind them, teeth clicking smartly in the air as he narrowly missed sinking them into his flesh. Cort snorted with laughter as he jerked back, swearing. Jumping over the packs, the dog started snapping at his heels, chasing him back out of the room and up the stairs, Cort hot on their heels after quickly grabbing up a bunch of Stimpaks. She came back down empty-handed with the dog a half hour later, looking pleased and baffled at the same time.

"Well? Did you let him eat that fuck? Because I'm not cleaning it up if he gets sick and pukes." Charon clapped his hands and crouched, Dogmeat coming over to have his armour removed, then impeding the ghoul's progress as he tried shoving his head under his hands. "Quit squirming or I'll end up yanking fur off with your suit. It'll get caught and you won't like that at all." Closing his eyes in a pinched expression as he realized he was talking to the dog like Cort did, he shook his head and resolutely focused his attention back on her as he worked, Dogmeat now sitting quietly and looking annoyed. Mouth twitching at their antics, Cort rubbed a hand vigorously over her upper lip to keep from laughing and replied.

"No, you know I wouldn't let Dogmeat touch him, he's just a jerk. But Li just tore into him like blue fury when he went whining to her. She sounded like Mister Brotch giving an etiquette lecture if someone had kicked him in the nads first, it was _awesome_. I'm actually starting to like her, I don't know if I should be pissed off at myself for that or what. And I don't know exactly what the hell happened while we were gone, but it must've been good. I didn't get a stink eye off of anyone upstairs just now, aside from that dickwad. Dad laid into them somehow."

Charon raised an eyebrow, trying to parse what she was telling him. "He did _what_?"

Cort shrugged."I went back to talk to him about stuff he wants me to do tomorrow and he asked what all the noise was, and I told him. Then he told _me_ not to worry about anyone being rude again. So I won't. Anyway!" She clapped her hands and bounced up on her toes, excited. "Stuff tomorrow, filled with the great stuffing of stuff. We're going to bring the Purifier online, and since everyone else will have their hands full, I need to do the running around for them." Cort paused for a second and blinked. "Unsurprisingly." Dropping back onto her heels, she yawned.

"Right now you need to run to bed, once you've finished up everything. You're exhausted." Finishing up with the dog, Charon grabbed and then flicked their blankets out as she yawned again, getting down on his own and giving hers a pat.

"And whose fault is that, hm? No don't, don't do that." Seeing his face suddenly fall, she quickly dropped down next to him and crawled into his lap. "I didn't mean it that way, I'm sorry. Nothing's your fault."

He wrapped an arm around her and started playing with her hair. "It's my fault you didn't sleep well, I kept waking you up."

"I remember being pretty enthusiastic about it whenever you did. I don't remember telling you to stop doing it either."

"Do you want me to?"

"What, stop waking me up, or stop doing _that_?"

Charon snorted, then grinned foolishly, the unfamiliar expression startling on his face. "Considering the places you've managed to leave bite marks on, I think it's a pretty fucking safe bet that you want to keep up with _that_, I'm not that dense. You're practically a damned rabbit once you get going. What I want to know is if you want me to stop waking you up."

She sputtered and twisted to look up at him, blushing. "Wha-_what_? How the _hell_ do you know what a rabbit is?"

"I learned about them from a book. I can and _do_ like to read, Cort, not that you get to see me do it much. Now answer the question." He paused, remembering something she liked people to do. "Please."

Chastised, she hunched lower. "I really don't _want _you to stop, but you probably should. I'm not sleeping enough."

"We could have slept at Carol's again instead of the Metro last night."

"I didn't want to, it was our last night out." Stifling another yawn, she snuggled into him. "Besides, we'll sleep all night tonight, and we're staying here tomorrow, it'll be an easy, lazy day. Let's get up early, even. I can teach you how to get into terminals."

"I'd like that. We can go over to one of the office buildings later on and I'll show you how to remove a door with charges." Running a hand down her thigh, he nuzzled behind her clipped ear, making her giggle.

"We have the weirdest pillow talk."

"We don't have pillows." Reaching down farther, he unlaced her boots one by one and pulled them off, fussily tugging her socks back up her feet.

"Point." Cort rolled her head around to face the dog where he was sprawled on the floor. "Dogmeat honey, watch the door for Momma. That'll keep that dink from poking his head in again." She smiled as he hauled himself over to flop down across the entrance, blocking the base of it entirely after rolling onto his back. "That's my best boy."

"Don't we need to unpack everything? Not that I want to feed that asshole." Closing her eyes, she went back to resting her face against his chest.

"Nah, they have some food left, just not a whole lot; Daniel was just being a pig. Big shocker there. Supplies can stay in our packs for now. Li told me everyone ate already anyway, just to unload tomorrow after everything's the...thing...n'thin..."

Charon looked down as Cort started snoring into his chest. Rolling his eyes and sighing, he smoothly moved her around until she was down on her right side where she preferred to be, resting her head on his arm as he cuddled up behind her. Putting his face into her hair he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as the scent of her filled his head, tantilizingly mixed with his own. She was practically saturated in it at this point, wet decaying copper overlying her own sweet smell._ I used to hate that fucking stink. It's better with her. _I'm_ better with her_. Carefully sliding his left hand up between her arms and over her chest, he gently pushed against the top of her right breast, finding the flat hard spot below her collarbone a moment later. _I'm better in her._ Sighing again, he resisted the urge to roll her over and move her shirt up, settling for pressing his head against hers and holding her tighter. Feeling Cort's steady heartbeat against his palm, he fell asleep thinking of bare white skin in red light.

* * *

**Coming **out of the Rotunda early the next morning, James found Cort sitting with Charon on the floor next to the turret control terminal, patiently teaching him how to break into it using a ragged sheet of paper and an ancient, chewed up pencil she had dug up from somewhere. "It's easier if you have something to write on first like I'm doing now. After you get better at it, you can kind of just _read_ the encryption and pick out the right ones to select."

"What if I fuck it up?" He watched as the ghoul attentively leaned in towards her, their heads almost touching each other as she scribbled lines across the paper, copying from the terminal.

If you think you're going to, leave it alone. Better yet, leave it alone and come get me. If you _do_ fuck it up, there's ways around it if you remembered to prepare in advance, but it's boring as hell. It's like you're reliving the same damn moment in front of the terminal over and over and _over_ until you get it right." Finishing, she shoved the page and pencil across to him. "Okay, now look at that carefully until you're sure, then pick the most likely answers out, I'll tell you if you got it right. I already know which one it is."

"Good morning, honey. Charon." Coming over to them, he absently flipped through his own pages on his clipboard, the big man picking up the battered pencil and carefully reading Cort's notes after nodding politely in his direction.

"Hi Dad." She grinned up at her father and quickly whipped something out of a pocket on her cargos, smiling wider when he snapped the apple she had thrown out of the air without even looking up, taking a bite out of it a second later. "You almost missed, slowpoke." Swallowing, he raised an eyebrow at her and grinned back.

"Not very likely sweetheart, considering _I'm_ the one who taught you how to do that. Whenever you're ready, come find me in the Rotunda and we'll get started with those tasks I told you about. Everyone else should be set up shortly, we've been preparing since dawn. Oh, and you might as well put your armour on first, I'll need you to go outside immediately once everything is finished to check some of the piping for leaks."

"Okay." He walked over to the door as Cort looked down again, the ghoul having shoved the paper back over. She clapped lightly after examining it, bouncing in place. "Yes, you got it! Good job, get a hug." James pretended to make notes and finished eating, unobtrusively watching as Charon obligingly spread his arms, Cort immediately launching herself into them and nearly bowling the big man over, her knees pushed against the floor as she embraced him. After recovering from the impact, he picked her up as he stood and then set her down gently, poking her in the direction of the basement and rasping disapprovingly at her.

"Come on, get suited up. And _eat_ something, don't think I didn't notice that you skipped, scatterbrain."

"Mother hen." Charon said nothing, only reached his hand out to brush against her hair as they went through the door.

James stood there for a moment longer, a peaceful look on his face. Whatever had transpired further in her relationship with the ghoul had seemed to settle Cort out entirely, the instabilities he had been so concerned about disappearing back into the mild, playful nature he remembered and loved. _No, not what I hoped for or expected, but I can live with the substitution if it puts her back together. My beautiful little girl_. Finally re-entering the Rotunda, he raised his voice to the assembled staff of Project Purity, each one looking attentively back to him as he strode up the metal staircase. "All right people, let's get started."


	58. Starting to Fray

**Cort** walked confidently into the Rotunda with her companions behind her, feeling happy and wanted as she ran up the stairs and into the Control Room, James smiling at them from where he stood with Janice Kaplinski. Pulling his lab coat off and handing it to the other woman, he wrapped a large number of huge fuses up in it before passing the bundle to his daughter.

"All right sweetie, ready to start making history? I need to you take these down to the Fuse Access A1 panel downstairs, you remember where that is?"

"Yes, at the very end of the basement."

"Good girl. Now be careful with those, they're the only replacement fuses we have at the moment. Pull the blown ones out and replace them with those, then push the intercom. We can't move to the next step until we've confirmed your repairs have worked."

Trotting back down the stairs, she grinned back at Li as the woman smiled at her, then passed back out into the rest of the Memorial. Heading back into the basement and rapidly descending to the location James had directed her to, she hummed to herself happily. Definitely starting to like the asian woman more as it had become apparent that her father was interested in only his work and her own well-being, Cort was feeling more secure than she had in months. _I can live with this. This life can work. I've got everything I've ever wanted, more or less even if it's all in bizarro-world_. Making her way to the panel, she handed the bundle of fuses to Charon, who carefully held them out as she swapped themwith the damaged ones. Clapping lightly as all of the lights in the basement flickered and then brightened, she then leaned over to punch the intercom next to the access panel. "Okay Dad, we've got the damaged fuses replaced, are you getting anything?" Taking her father's lab coat back, she rolled it up and knotted the sleeves around her waist as he responded.

"_Yes sweetheart, we're good up here. Next I'm going to need you to boot up the Mainframe, with the power back on you should be able to open the security door."_

"Roger dodger!" Letting go of the button, she turned to go back to the upper levels of the basement, Charon and Dogmeat following behind. The Mainframe was the third of the tasks her father had outlined for her, the first being turning off power to the Flood Control Pump, easy enough since it was in the room they had been sleeping in. James had buzzed down while they were putting their armour on, and she had quickly completed the little job after they had dressed. Pelting up the stairs and skidding into the next designated area, Cort grinned at the green light now burning brightly next to the massive flanged security door sealing off the Mainframe. Twisting the dial on the door, it retracted immediately and she darted in, looking for the control switch. Charon walked in a moment later, in a rather more sedate fashion.

"So what's after this one?" He watched as she spun in place, quickly moving to pull down a massive breaker on the wall when she spotted it. Grunting as she tried to shift it, she glanced over towards him.

"Come help, this thing is stiff as hell. I think this is all of it before we need to go grab our guns and stuff and play plumber outside." She moved aside as the ghoul came over and grabbed the handle, flipping it down in one easy motion as she crossed her arms and stared at him haughtily. "Yeah well, I loosened it."

"The only thing you ever get loose are screws." Ducking as he swatted at her playfully, Cort stuck her tongue out and moved back to reach for another intercom.

"Okay Dad, it's up!"

"_Excellent! There are a few minor repairs that still need to be made up here in the Control Room, why don't you come up and give me a hand? Wait. What Janice_?" Cort waited, listening to her father mumbling to one of the other scientists. "_Damnit. All right. Cort honey, there's apparently a blockage in one of the intake pipes, I'm going to need you to go clear it out before we can get started_."

"Okay, shoot."

"_Go to the entrance to the Memorial and back up the other end, there's a grate there, set into the floor. I need you to head down into it and open the valve down there, it will be right after the first gate once you make it inside, red handle next to a rusted out hole. Don't worry about being in the pipes when you turn it on, nothing runs through that section anymore and it's sealed off from the outside. You'll know the valve is completely open when the sign over the far gate in there switches to green. You'll have to go for a little swim at the end, but you'll come out next to your sleeping area, so you two can change before coming back up."_

"Got it." Trotting out of the room, she resealed it as soon as Charon and Dogmeat came out, then trotted up the stairs as the ghoul griped behind her.

"A little swim? What the fuck does he mean a little _swim_?"

She groaned happily back. "Yeeeah, probably into the overflow pool down at the bottom of the basement, there's a huge pipe coming out of the ceiling above it. I'm not complaining, I need a bath. I smell."

He frowned to himself, following after her. "I like the way you smell." Making their way back to the ground level and coming up the corridor at the far end of the Memorial entrance, Charon looked down apprehensively as Cort hauled the grating set into the floor out of the way, exposing a dead black hole. "That is not a good idea."

"What?" Sliding through after snapping her Pip-Boy light on, she dropped down into the rusty drainage pipe with a dull clanging sound, then caught the dog as he jumped into her arms. "Oof! Heavy boy. Come on Charon, pitter patter, let's get at 'er. What are you waiting for?" She looked around, sneezing as dust rose up from the dirt accumulated in the bottom. The pipe extended out beyond the wall of the Memorial, cabling running along the ceiling and lights depending from cords at even locations along it, giving off a dim glow.

"It's like a fucking tin can in there."

"So? We've walked through tunnels." Both her and Dogmeat looked up at him with the exact same questioning expression as he stared back, exasperated.

"So I'm _huge_, if you haven't noticed. The Metro tunnels are different, I'm going to be bent up all to hell _crawling_ in that thing."

"Oh trust me, I _noticed_. Look, there's tons of room, I just have to crouch a little and my head doesn't even touch." She waggled her right hand over her helmeted head, a grin starting to break out on her face. Grumbling, the ghoul dropped down next to her, swearing as he banged into the top of the pipe when he tried to stand.

"Fucking stupid...how long are we down here for, I _hate _tight spaces."

Rubbing the sides of her legs to ease the tensed muscles, she smiled wider and reached out to grab one of his hands, softening the scowl on his face when she did. "What about when I'm in them with you?"

"Distinctly more agreeable than normal."

"What about my own?" His expression mellowed further as she intertwined her fingers with his, and he pulled her hand up to kiss the back of it before letting go.

"Definitely agreeable."

Wiggling happily, she turned and started down the drainage pipe, Charon finding the view adequate compensation for the occasional light bulb whacking him in the face as she absently batted them out of the way.

Coming up to a sealed gate, Cort pushed the latch and entered the section they had been looking for, weak sunlight streaming in through a rotted section next to the valve James had sent them after. "Ooh, sun. Sun is good." She turned to close the gate behind her as Charon edged past to sit next to the gaping hole, grabbing at the chain link fencing wrapped over it from the outside after banging his helmet against the twin loudspeakers mounted into the ceiling.

"Shit! Sun, air, all of it. It'll be better than good when I'm not clocking the hell out of myself every five fucking seconds."

Watching the lighted sign over the gate change from a pleasant green 'UNLOCKED' to a red 'LOCKED', Cort turned to complete her task. Scrambling over to grab the valve, she wrapped both hands around it and wrenched it to the left, the metal squealing in protest as she turned it as far as it would go. "There. Now we can just relax for a few minutes before we-" She was cut off by the sound of an enormous explosion outside, the flames billowing up in the distance just visible through the scaffolding around the front of the Memorial. "Or not." Glancing down the pipe, she swore as she saw both doors were still sealed, then jerked her head back to the hole as a vibration built up in the metal and air around her. "Charon, what the fuck is that?"

The ghoul had turned around to face the outside completely, peering up and yelling as the sound became deafening. "I don't know, I've never heard it before." Both of them ducked down as a green aircraft with twin rotors hovered into sight like a giant metal bloatfly, descending to land on the platform in front of them. He stared out at it, baffled. "It looks like one of the wrecks back on the deck of the carrier."

Comprehension dawned on Cort's face as she stared out at it, dredging up the name from history holotapes she had watched back in the Vault. "Vertibird! It's a Vertibird!" She yelled louder as a group of people spilled out of it, dressed in black power armour and grey uniforms. "_Hey_! Who the hell a-" She squeaked as a hand was suddenly slapped over her mouth. Charon hissed at her as he yanked her lower and out of sight, chalky eyes watching the group streaming into the Memorial.

"Do _not_ yell at the heavily armed assholes we do not know while we're in a fucking makeshift shooting gallery." He released her as the aircraft took off again, grabbing for his shotgun and swearing when his searching hand didn't find it, both of them having left their guns behind in Pump Control with their packs. _Easy, lazy day. We won't need to shoot at anything. Suuure_._ I'm going back to fucking sleeping with my shotgun after whatever this shit is is over with_. He swore again as the loudspeakers above them crackled to life, James' voice issuing from them. "_Fuck_!" Cort looked up and strained to hear over the receding noise as the far gate's sign finally changed to green.

"_Everyone, it seems we have some visitors. I don't know who they are or what they want. Please, everyone remain in your assigned areas until we get this sorted out. For anyone who has _gone outside_ of them, _return immediately _and be careful_."

"Come on we have to go, go _now_, gogogo!" Bolting for the far end of the pipe, Cort ripped the gate open and scrambled through into the next section, which rapidly sloped into a vertical drop swathed in black. Feet hitting a grate halfway across the side, she jumped off of it, stopping abruptly when Charon's hand grabbed the rim of her armour and pulled her back. Flailing, she screeched and twisted around to face him, plating rucking up around her neck. "Lemmie go!"

"Shine your damn light down there first before you break a fucking leg."

Jamming her left arm down into the hole and rotating it, she saw a succession of corroded grates spaced out down along the pipe. "There, see, no breaking legs, leggo!" Pulling loose from his grip as it relaxed, she quickly turned and jumped down to the lower grate, turning to catch Dogmeat as he dropped and then holding him as she leapt to the next one, the metal squealing as she hit it. Letting him go, she watched the dog scramble down to the last two, then whipped her face back up. "Come on, I can see it leveling out, get moving!" Whatever was happening, she needed to get back to her father, the different scenarios of what could be going on running through her head and starting to drive her into a panic. _I'm not going to lose him again, I'll lose it if I lose him again._

* * *

**Reaching** down, he shook the first grating, frowning when rust flaked off from the bolts set into the metal. "Get to the bottom first and out of the way. And _wait _for me." His reservations about the platforms proved to be correct when the third one collapsed under the impact of his weight, dumping him to the bottom of the drop. Skidding through the mess in the bottom of the pipe, he crashed directly into Cort, kicking up a cloud of filth over both of them. "Fuck! Are you all right?" Charon had a brief moment to hug her to him before she roughly shoved him away and started loping down the pipe, dropping into a swinging gait to pick up speed, hands smacking hollowly against the metal sides.

"Fine, now come on and move your ass!" Swearing, he followed her, trying to keep her in sight as she hared around the curves, the dog hot on her heels. He stopped abruptly as Cort slammed into another gate, ripping it open and piling through, only to be driven back into the previous section by a volley of laser fire. Scrabbling in the rust and dirt drifted up in the bottom of the pipe, she sneezed violently as she kicked the gate shut, the scent of seared flesh and burnt cloth reaching him as it rose off of her right side. "It's two of the ones in power armour. I was right, pipe empties out down into the pool next to Pump Control." Crawling up beside her, Charon worked his hand into one of hers as she heaved against the side of the pipe. "We're pinned, and we need something better than our Goddamned combat knives and Dogmeat's pistol to get past those assholes, if they're shooting at me God only knows what they're doing to everyone else. I need to get to Dad, I need to get there now, _nownownow_!"

As Dogmeat crawled over to nudge at her face the ghoul remembered something, and he squeezed her hand brutally to cut her off as her voice started scaling up into a shriek. "We've got something. Scoped .44. That fucking cannibal's Magnum is on the mutt's right side, I left it where James put it back in Andale."

"Brilliant, you're brilliant." Hauling the dog over, she ripped the massive gun out of its pocket and turned back to the gate, Charon deftly plucking it out of her hand a second later.

"No. It kicks like a Brahmin, and you can't brace it like your repeater. Take the mutt's pistol and stay behind me." He snapped at her when she hesitated, looking rebellious. "_Do it_, Cort, I can fucking smell where they cooked you, they're not going to do it again. And turn off that damn light." Glaring at him she complied, the ghoul got a perverse feeling of satisfaction out of her obedience before moving to the gate and feeling for the edge of it in the darkness, nudging it open. Leveling the .44 in both hands and staring through the scope, he drew a bead on the head of one of the figures and squeezed the trigger. The gun roared, muzzle flash illuminating his face as he snarled, the bullet slamming into one of the helmet's shielded eye holes and blowing it apart. Charon rapidly repeated the action as his second target darted into his line of sight, then moved out into the last of the pipe before the body had hit the floor, scanning the rest of the visible area as he reached the edge. Cort skidded up next to him a second later, 10mm held out in front of her as she incredulously looked around.

"How the hell did you _DO_ that? You use a fucking _shotgun_ for Christ's sake!"

"I _like_ the fucking shotgun. I _am _a fucking sniper." He watched a disturbing range of emotions dance over her face before it blanked completely and she turned back to the drop, tilting her head.

"Well whatever, gotta go, _gotta go_." She suddenly flung herself past him, arms circling as she crashed into the water below, Dogmeat instantly leaping out once she had swum out of the way.

"_Cort_!" Swearing, he jumped out after her, his weight carrying him to the bottom of the deep pool as he plunged into it. Kicking his long legs out against the base, he burst back out into the air in time to see her bolting for their sleeping area, water flying everywhere as she ran. Pulling himself out onto the floor, he pounded after her, coming into the room just in time to catch her before she could run back out with her repeater. "Hold it, get your pack."

"No, no no we have to get upstairs, there's more of them." He moved his hands to her arms and gave her a violent shake, finally getting her eyes to move back to his own as he dug his fingers into her flesh. Pushing down the urge to submit to the bald outrage in them at the rough treatment, he shook her again to drive his next words home, hoping she wouldn't remember that she could control him completely if she wished.

"Which means we're going to need the grenades and the medical shit, so get your pack, Cort!" Shrieking intelligibly, she turned back and ripped it on over her back as Charon pulled his own on and jammed the .44 back into Dogmeat's armour as the dog paced past him, growling and snapping at nothing. Whatever was happening, the ghoul already felt like they were already on bad footing. With her father threatened and having no way to know what was happening to him, Cort's self control had degenerated entirely, and the dog was clearly being affected by it. He thrust his arm out to grab her again as she ran for the door and shoved her back, not daring to let her take point in this condition. "No, you stay behind me, you're acting like an idiot and you won't help your father by killing yourself. _Now_!" Staring at him murderously and twisting her hands around her rifle, he glared back as she slowly obeyed, and he quickly moved out out of the room before the thin control he had over her broke completely. A week earlier and the big man wouldn't have had a chance, the new dynamics of their relationship the only thing holding her in place. He looked down as Dogmeat trotted beside him and snarled. "And you keep your fucking head. I don't need_ you_ going nuts on top of everything else."

They encountered three more opponents as they moved upstairs, one in the basement and two in the top level of the Memorial, Cort literally slamming herself into the last one. Charon had finished the man off by driving his knife into the gap under his helmet, unable to get a shot off as she punched at the armoured head, screaming as the downed figure jammed a laser pistol into her left thigh and fired. Letting go the instant the corpse stopped twitching she streaked towards the Rotunda, ripping the door open and tearing through it, the ghoul only able to catch up to her again when her leg gave out. Coming up behind them, Dogmeat quietly paused at the threshold and waited. There were too many new people for him to decide what to do on his own.


	59. Coming Apart at the Seams

_Thanks for the reviews/alerts peeps! LittleLoki: they're in there, if you haven't read that far already. ;)_

* * *

**James** reached up weakly from the floor of the Purifier, wiping the mess obscuring his daughter's face through the glass door away and felt the events of his life fly before him, culminating in his last seconds here before her. _Never enough time. There was never enough, Catherine. How did it run out so fast?_

Shortly after one of the control panels had shown Cort successfully clearing the pipe blockage he had sent her after, they had heard the turrets outside the room rattle off a quick burst before exploding. An armed group had then stormed into the Rotunda, led by a tall iron-haired man wearing a brown duster over a black uniform, three in grey fatigues immediately herding most of Li's staff to the other end. As those in power armour followed the tall man in front, the doctor herself froze on the stairs and looked infuriated, glancing towards James for direction. Quickly thumbing a button on the intercom as Janice backed up towards him, he spoke into it rapidly, praying that his daughter was still in a position to hear him. "Everyone, it seems we have some visitors. I don't know who they are or what they want. Please, everyone remain in your assigned areas until we get this sorted out. For anyone who has _gone outside_ of them, _return immediately _and be careful." The tall man, clearly in charge, immediately turned and waved to five of of the armour-clad figures behind him, speaking with a drawling southern accent.

"You, locate the rest of the staff. Eliminate any armed resistance you may discover." He turned and started up the stairs as they peeled back out into the Memorial, walking towards Doctor Li. Bristling, she strode up to the man as he advanced and stared him down, any fear she may have been feeling hidden behind the steel of her character and moral outrage. Not for the first time, James found himself glad that she was still around.

"What is the _meaning_ of this intrusion? None of you are authorized to be in this building, this is a private facility."

"Madam I assure you, the Enclave is fully authorized to enter any building in this great nation, particularly those devoted to one of our Founding Fathers." He raised his voice and looked around, clasping his gloved hands behind his back. "Now who is in charge of this project? They are to step forward immediately and hand over all materials related to it."

_The Enclave? Oh God help us_. James started out of the Control Room, rapidly backing up again and smiling grimly as the remaining two armoured soldiers came towards him with raised rifles. "That's quite impossible, this is a private project and the Enclave has no right to interfere. I'm going to have to ask you to leave, at once." The tall man strode up the stairs and entered, motioning both of the armed figures to either end of the room.

"And based on that statement, am I to assume sir, that you are in charge?"

"Yes, I am responsible for this project and these people."

"Then I repeat, sir, you are to handle over all materials related to the Purifier. Furthermore, you are to assist Enclave scientists in assuming control of the administration and operation of this facility."

Narrowing his eyes and staring harder at the man's insignia, James had a split second to wonder how they had known about the project's function before the answer dawned on him, slamming into his mind like a bullet. _That damned DJ and his bullshit radio station. When I get everyone out of this that man is losing his Goddamned flapping tongue._ "Colonel...is it Colonel? I'm sorry, but this facility is not operational and never has been. I'm afraid you're wasting your time here."

"Colonel Autumn, sir. And this is the last time I am going to repeat myself. Stand down at once and turn over control of this facility and all materials related to its operation."

James silently seethed. There was no way he was going to hand over control of Project Purity to the Enclave, or anyone else aside from Li or his own daughter. From the rumours he had heard over the years, they were the last organization that could be allowed to hold something so potentially influential. Frowning, he spoke back firmly. "Colonel, I assure you that this facility will not function. We have never been able to successfully replicate test results-"

Autumn pulled out his 10mm and shot the quavering woman standing to his left, gore flying out the back of her head and over the main water column as she collapsed to the floor, a rising scream from the rest of the staff cut off immediately by those guarding them when they raised their guns higher. Giving James a bored look, the Colonel re-holstered the pistol. "I suggest you comply immediately sir, in order to prevent any further incidents. Am I making myself clear?"

All of them rapidly turned when another scream suddenly rang out from the other room, scaling up into primal rage, and James closed his eyes briefly in relief. _Finally. There's my beautiful girl._ Looking through the glass walls of the Control Room as the door to the Rotunda slammed open, he watched Cort burst through as it swung wide, scorched and limping, a homicidal look plastered on her face. _Oh honey. Not the entrance I was hoping for_. The ghoul appeared behind her a moment later, panting heavily as he hauled her up against him and scanned the room, freezing as several pistols were aimed towards them. Deciding that there was no way they could succeed in attacking the soldiers in the condition they were in, James roared down at them. "Both of you, keep your guns down and keep _quiet_!" Turning back to the man that had just shot Janice Kapinsky in the head as the ghoul instantly wrenched his daughter's rising repeater away from her, he leveled a cold look at Autumn, his voice silky and even. "So is this your idea of no further incidents, Colonel Autumn? My daughter covered in laser burns?"

He watched Autumn spare an irritated glance for the bleeding pair before turning back to face him. "I'm sure she provided adequate provocation towards my men, whom I assure you were not the only ones I have with me. Unless you want everyone in here to perish, including the girl, I suggest you stand down. I am ready to die for my country sir. Are you?"

James stared at the man, and then shifted his gaze back towards the clump of people spaced around the Rotunda, landing on Cort last of all, who was looking up at him hopefully, waiting for him to do something. Feeling his world falling apart in the Memorial for the second time in his life, he smiled reassuringly and watched the worried lines in her face smooth out. _My poor sweet girl. I am sorry, I am so, so sorry that I won't be here for you, and that I wasn't when I needed to be_. "No, I am not ready to die for _that_, Colonel." Pretending to slump defeatedly, he shot a hard look towards Charon before turning to the control panel in front of the Purifier, gratified to see the big man's eyes widen at whatever he saw there. _Oh, my darling. At least I won't be leaving you alone this time_.

Smiling magnanimously, Autumn replaced his hands behind his back. "Good. After you have finished with your task, I am sure we can all sit down in a more civilized manner. I assure you, a place in the Enclave can be found for a man as talented as yourself, and any of your dependents, such as they may be." He spun around as the glass door to the Control Room suddenly slid shut behind him. "What is the meaning of this? Open that immediately, or-"

Talking calmly over him, James flipped a series of switches and then moved to the next bank of controls. He had no doubts that the only place any of them would be going if he assisted Autumn was where Janice now was, sightlessly staring up with a hole punched into her forehead. "The main door has to close for the Purifier to be activated, it's a safety feature. They will retract as soon as _all_ of the machinery is brought _completely_ online." Li traded a knowing, horrified glance with Daniel Agincourt before both of them stared back up to the Control Room where James continued to work quietly, the ghoul visibly readying himself for whatever was about to happen after seeing the exchange. "Cort, sweetheart?"

"Yes Dad?"

"I've been thinking, and I want you to make sure that you _never_ take Charon's present off, you don't know when he might be able to find you something so pretty again. I bet Madison would like to admire it sometime."

"Daddy?" Cort started squirming in the ghoul's arms, quickly catching on that something was about to go wrong after the odd statement he had made.

Autumn snapped at him, motioning the two soldiers inside with him closer. "Enough of these delays. Activate the Purifier _now_, sir."

"Just another minute and I'll be done." Reaching out, James absently struck a button, then bellowed at the top of his lungs as an explosion whumped from somewhere inside the Purifier, a klaxon starting to sound immediately afterward. "NOW!"

* * *

**Even **though things happened then in a matter of minutes, for the rest of Cort's life every second remained stretched out to agony in her memory, each one held in its own perfect, minute clarity. Charon had slammed her repeater back into her hand before ramming the butt of his shotgun into the head of the closest Enclave soldier, blood spraying over him, Dogmeat launching himself at the next one as Daniel and Garza tackled the third. Colonel Autumn collapsed along with the two Enclave soldiers inside as Li spun around on the stairs and frantically slapped her hand against the glass. James turned slowly, staggering erratically towards the door as Cort shrieked and ran for him, pounding up the stairs.

"DADDY!" Slumping to the ground on her side of the barrier as he crumpled to the floor, she pressed her hands against it and wailed, her father shakily reaching up to plant one of his own next to hers, still moving only through the sheer force of his indomitable will. "Daddy, what's _happening_? What did you _do_?"

"Cortenay, listen to me. You have to be-" He stopped, throwing up violently against the door, then reached up his other hand to clear the vomit away as she shrieked again, the noise tearing through his heart as the rest of his body burned with the immeasurable levels of radiation now pouring out of the Purifier. _Never enough time. There was never enough, Catherine, to say everything I needed to you, and now to her. _"You have to be brave for me, sweetheart. It's all up to you now. I am so, _so_ proud of you, and I always will be. I love you." Pulling in one final breath, he yelled roughly as the blood-soaked ghoul dropped beside her, pushing out the last of his life on it. "Now run. _RUN_!" Keeping his eyes on Cort's, he slid the rest of the way down to the floor, his worries mercifully fading out into a moment of perfect peace. _Catherine, look. She has your beautiful eyes_. Tired, James let his own slip shut, happy to have both of them with him now, and died.

* * *

**Charon **had expected something severe to happen when James had looked at him, seeing in his eyes the same cold insanity that often shone out of his employer's, only far more intense. In his wildest dreams, it could never have been what had just occurred. Cort's father was dead inside the Control Room, and she was blankly staring in at him, fingertips tracing small circles on the glass where his hand had been. Dogmeat trotted up beside them both and pushed his nose against the door, whining, as Li hurriedly came up behind her and gently shook her shoulder.

"Cort, we need to go, they'll be coming for us next. We need to evacu-"

"NO!" Spinning and shooting up to her feet, she slammed her fist into Li's face, breaking the woman's nose before turning back to the door and beginning to pound on it after the release switch failed to work. "WE HAVE TO GET HIM OUT, I'M NOT LEAVING HIM, GET HIM OUT!" Whining louder as she shrieked, Dogmeat started banging himself against the barrier for her, his teeth squealing against it as he started snapping.

Charon turned, searching for something to break the glass with when Li grabbed his arm, her other hand holding onto her nose as a freshet of blood poured out of it. "You can't let her open it! James overloaded the Purifier, there's enough radiation trapped in there to kill us all if it escapes. We need to get out of here, get _her_ out of here! They'll be after her, all of us!" Releasing him after he nodded slowly, she turned to the rest of her staff. "All right, all of you know where to go! Get to the tunnels now, Charon and Cort will be right behind! Alex! Run and lock the entrance if we still have a door left to shut and then get back to everyone else, it might buy us some time. Now, now, now!" Wiping the blood from her face and cursing, she looked back to him as everyone else streamed out of the Rotunda. "You're the only one who's strong enough to get her to move, and I suggest you _do it_. I won't be trying again."

Reaching for Cort, the big man had time to put his hand on her arm before he was flat on his back with an aching knee, looking up at the ceiling. Charon stared up at his employer in shock, completely blindsided. She had turned long enough to savagely kick one of his legs out and slam both palms into his chest, bringing him down solidly before resuming her assault with the dog, who was crashing against the glass next to her. If the animal was acting rabid, Cort had gone utterly insane, a high keening scream pouring out of her without seeming to stop. Blood was starting to smear everywhere she touched as her fingers sliced open on the metal edges of the door, scrabbling in a futile attempt to pull it open, and froth spraying out of the animal beside her ran down to pool on the floor as he slavered against it.

Yelling out from the door, Li braced herself against the jamb as she tried to keep her attention on both sides of it. "Charon, _hurry_! There are more of them coming, and if the Enclave takes her away, we'll never see her again!"

Hearing her words, Charon was instantly filled with terror, horrified at the thought of Cort being stolen from him. _Nonono, they _can't _take her away, she's mine, she _gave_ herself to me. I can't lose her, I can't ever. _ Hauling himself back up, he grabbed her and spun her away from the glass to face him, shaking her hard enough to snap her head around like a rag doll before she could start to attack him instead. _Fuck, I can't hit her and knock her out, I don't even know if I _can_ knock her out when she's like this. I'd probably just piss her off even more. Something else, try something else_. Leaning in, he bellowed into her face, punctuating each word with another shake.

"Cort, you will _listen_ to your _father_! NOW RUN!"

As her eyes cleared, he had a second to hope she was going to obey him again like in the drainage pipe before she twisted away, rage burning her into sudden moment of lucidity. "What? NO! I'm not losing him again! We're getting him the hell _out _of there, and I ORDER you t-"

_Oh fuck. She's _definitely_ going to punish me for this_. Charon snapped out his right hand and closed it viciously around her throat before she could finish the words, bringing her in tight against his chest as he squeezed. Gurgling, she clawed at his arm and twisted against him, leaving bloody furrows in his flesh and kicking wildly as the ghoul fought down his own rising panic. _She can't order me to stop if she's not able to talk. It doesn't count as disobeying if she never said anything in the first place. This is fucking alright to do if I'm saving her life. I'm supposed to keep her safe, I'm _supposed_ to protect my employer. She's _strong_, this won't really hurt her, I _can't _really hurt her, I love her. _Wrapping his other arm around her as she struggled even harder, he kept up the frantic litany as he continued cutting off the flow of blood to her brain, thankful to the bastards who had made him for once for the knowledge of how to do it. A cold weight settling into the pit of his stomach as Cort's movements became slower and uncoordinated, he released her instantly when she suddenly fell limp against him, finally passing out. Lifting her up after checking to make sure she was still breathing and nearly weeping with relief when he found that she was, he reached down for her repeater and tossed it towards Li, who caught it clumsily and then held the door open, wide-eyed. Charon moved through it, yelling over his shoulder to Dogmeat as he pressed himself against the glass, whining and looking after them. "Knock it the fuck off mutt, he's toast! Protect the girl!"

Following the woman to the group of people waiting in the far corner of the Memorial as the dog loped up beside him, he ripped Cort's pack loose from her limp form and threw it at Daniel, the man swearing as he brought his hands up in reflex to catch it. "What the fuck are you doing?"

'You wanted it before, fucking carry it now. I've got enough weight on my hands." Setting Cort down gently against his legs, he took off his own and threw it to Alex Dargon after removing handfuls of grenades and ammunition, rapidly stuffing them into the pouches on his belt.

Li crouched down to the floor, sweeping debris out of the way with her free hand. "Garza, was the manhole still hidden when you came out here?"

"Yes Doctor Li. I don't think they found it."

"Good, help me pull it off."

Letting out an exasperated noise as the two people tugged at the steel plate, the ghoul shoved them out of the way and ripped it loose in one motion, struggling to keep his employer from crumpling onto the dirty linoleum. "Where the hell does this go?"

Li motioned for her people to go through, rattling off names as they went. " Garza, Daniel, Alex...It leads to the sewers directly in front of the Citadel, we used it the last time we had to evacuate." She paused, jerking her head up and looking around. "Anna, where's Anna?"

"What?"

"Anna Holt's missing, we have to-" Li yelped as another explosion tore out across the Memorial, and Charon swore, recognizing the sound of controlled charges.

"What we have to do is _leave_, that was someone blowing the outside door off. They're not taking any chances." Almost pushing Li into the hole, he lowered Cort down to her and then scrambled through, pulling the manhole cover back into place after Dogmeat jumped in. Climbing down the ladder, he took his employer back from the other woman and pinned her to him with his left arm, combat shotgun in the other as he led the group down a large circular tunnel, dimly lit up by stuttering overhead panels. "Where now?"

Li motioned forward, practically running to keep up with him and glancing behind them. "This way, just keep going. We have to go through a series of tunnels and access areas. It's been almost two decades since we were down here, and I have no idea what may be down here. Where we entered and where we're going aren't the only ways in."

"_Perfect_. Stay the fuck behind me and get ready to take her when I need you to." _No orders, no intel and I have these fucks to take care of while you're out to lunch_. Charon pressed his cheek briefly against the top of Cort's helmet as he dodged around a pile of rubble collapsing out of the wall, snarling when he heard one of the people behind him stumble. _If I didn't need them for you I'd fucking ditch them in an instant. _"And keep up."

Daniel hissed from somewhere behind him as he heard someone else trip. "You need to slow down so we can all stay with you, or let us dump these bags."

Spinning in place and walking backwards, unerringly avoiding the debris behind him without slowing, the ghoul pinned them all with a chalky glare. "_You _need to fucking realize that I'm _not_ with you. You're with _me_. You scrubs are just along for the ride while I get my girl out of this mess, and if you want the only person down here who can actually _kill anything_ to help you, you'll shut the fuck up and haul that shit like you _fucking_ mean it."

"Doctor Li, you can't stand for this! With James gone, you're in charge of the Project, not this, this shuffler!" Li stopped and Charon along with her, waiting only because the woman had stayed with him and Cort back in the Rotunda. Delicately leaning the repeater against the wall, she reached down and removed her shoes just long enough to snap the long heels off against a rock, then awkwardly grabbed up the rifle and started walking again, the big man silently turning to fall in beside her.

"Yes Daniel, I am, and for the moment, I strongly recommend that you shove it where the sun doesn't shine. We've got a long walk."


	60. Shattered

**If** asked afterward, Charon would have easily agreed with anyone stating that the entire affair of moving Li's staff through the tunnels was like trying to herd cats. Once his employer had woken up again, the similarities became even more apparent.

They had reached an open area at the end of the first round tunnel, and two Eyebots had immediately appeared out of a connecting corridor, zooming towards them and blatting out their tinny patriotic music. Not waiting to see if they were hostile, Charon had instantly blown both of them apart, the loud shots first waking and then rousing Cort entirely. Confused and blinking slowly, she had automatically reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, clear-headed enough to notice that she was being carried.

"Charon? What are we doing?"

_Oh thank fuck, she's back, she came back_. While he had always used a choke hold successfully in the past, he had been warned while being taught to do it that he could permanently damage whatever target he was applying it to. Relieved, he held her tighter, pausing for the moment. "We're going to the Citadel."

"But why are we going there, we were helping Dad today...Dad. _DADDY_!" Cort went from hanging limp to flailing wildly, beating him around the helmet and screaming as he hunched into himself, accepting the abuse. "_YOU SON OF A BITCH, WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME_?" Reflexively letting her go when one of her knees hit him hard in the groin, he staggered back and groaned, Li coming up beside Cort in an instant and grabbing her before she could attack him further.

"He did what your father _wanted_ him to do, Cort. He got you out, he got all of us out." Li flinched when she rounded on her, expecting another shot to the head and getting ready to dodge.

"WE HAVE TO GO BACK AND GET HIM!" Staring at Li and starting to actually see her, she pulled in air in high, breathy pants, bewilderment breaking through the rage. "What happened? What did he _do_?"

"James overloaded the Purifier to stop the Enclave from controlling it. When he started it up completely, it triggered a massive radiation purge. That's why we couldn't let you open the door, Cort. It would have killed you."

Looking incredulous, she spread her arms out and shook her head as Charon finally straightened up behind her. "Why didn't he just _GIVE_ them the fucking thing?"

"Cort, they would have murdered every single one of us if he had helped them. Janice is already dead, and most likely Anna too. Don't make his sacrifice a waste by going back in there. He died to save you, and the Project."

"But-but I can't leave him there! I have to go back, I _have_ to!" Li made her voice as soothing as possible, resisting the urge to close her eyes in thanks when the dog came up and pressed against Cort's left leg, who automatically dropped her hand to his ears.

"And we can, Cort. We can go back after we get to the Citadel and we're safe. Right now the Memorial is overrun and it will take something as strong as the Brotherhood to take it back. We need your help to get there Cort, so we can come back, so _you _can come back." Li pressed her lips together and took a risk, using one of James' pet names for her. "You found him before, sweetheart, you can do it again. Now you have to take care of us like he would. Can you do that for him?"

Her voice evening out, she looked blankly at Li. "I can find him again."

"Yes, Cort, you can."

Her breathing settling down, Cort looked almost calm before a strange, thoughtful expression shuttered over her face, coming and going so quickly that Li wasn't sure she had seen it in the first place. "Yes, I can do that. Give me my rifle, please. _And _my Goddamned pack, Daniel." Taking both items when they were proffered, she quickly crouched and pulled out several Stimpaks, putting them into herself and Dogmeat. Standing back up again and struggling with one of the straps, Charon approached her to help pull it on. Wrenching away when he reached out, Cort fixed him with a disgusted look and hissed at him, hitching her pack the rest of the way on by herself. "Don't you _dare_ touch me right now, don't even try. Don't even _think _it. And stay the hell away from me until I decide to tell you otherwise."

Charon felt like his guts had been ripped out. She had never stopped him from touching her before, ever. "Cort, I'm sorry. I couldn't let them take you away." Raspy voice cracking, he tried again when she didn't respond, only started checking her repeater over. "I'm ready to be punish-"

"I'm _not_ going to be talking to you again until I'm finished with all of this." Finding everything to her satisfaction, she leveled her repeater and started moving towards a flanged security door after looking to Li for direction, triggering it and walking through after checking her Pip-Boy. "Okay let's go, no nasties yet."

Feeling horrible, Charon stayed where he was until she was well in front of him. What she had just said was the closest she had ever come to telling him to shut up, and he didn't want to push her into actually saying it. He motioned to Alex Dargon for his own pack, shrugging it on after he handed it over, and then fell in beside Li as she followed after Cort. Starting when the woman reached out and tentatively patted his arm, he looked down at her as she whispered to him.

"Don't worry, you did the right thing. We couldn't have left her there. She'll be fine, once she's had a little time, once we've _all_ had a little time. She's already coming back out of it."

Charon wasn't convinced, but couldn't get close enough to confirm his suspicions as they made their way towards the Citadel, Cort pointing him away when he got within more than three feet of her. While that was currently killing him inside, what was really bothering him was the fact that she hadn't cried yet, and the way her eyes were going. She had screamed, and raged, and fallen apart once her father had died, but there hadn't been a single tear in evidence through any of it, and while the rest of her face was animated, every time he caught sight of her eyes they were dull and getting worse. It was like the light was being sucked out of them from the inside. She had stopped and sounded concerned when Garza needed Stimpaks to keep going, hauling them out of her own supply to give to Li, but the expression of feeling stopped precisely at her voice. There hadn't even been a spark of emotion in them when she had taken out two of the three armoured Enclave soldiers they had discovered before starting to climb back up towards the surface, only pausing long enough to shoot out one of their eyes as he had done for her earlier in the Memorial after he had stunned them with a grenade. Whatever meltdown she was going to eventually have this time, he was positive it was going to be nuclear in proportion.

Making their way into the last section of tunnels, his frayed nerves were slowly driving him crazy. They had run into two packs of feral ghouls, the screeching monstrosities scattering Li and her staff like ash in a windstorm, and Charon had had a hell of a time trying to sort each mess out as the only thing they wouldn't attack, dealing with the ones trying to eat the screaming smoothskins while others latched onto Cort and Dogmeat as they fought. Pulling one loose from her that had managed to get its mouth around her left arm and putting it down, he had reached for where she was bitten out of concerned habit, getting a dead, warning stare in return. The second pack had been outside of a Brotherhood outpost, manned by a lone figure in full power armour with a Mini-Gun who swore at them to get out of the area, and behind him and a set of turrets was a ladder finally leading back up to the surface. Encouragingly, Cort had allowed him to climb up next to her to push the manhole cover off before she quickly scrambled out of it, emerging into the early evening air.

Coming out himself after carrying Dogmeat up, he looked across the Potomac towards the Jefferson Memorial as the smoothskins scrambled out behind him(aside from some nasty bites, they had managed to bring all of them through, partly due to his and Cort's intervention and the fact that they bolted at the first sign of trouble, leaving the two of them and the dog to clean up the mess). There was a swarm of activity around the building, and some kind of energy field was being erected as Vertibirds roared over it and spread out into different directions. Cort was standing and staring in the same direction with Dogmeat, one hand tugging on his ears as she watched. Turning back the other way, Charon looked up towards the Citadel. Made out of the blasted remains of the old Pentagon, the corner facing them was buttressed with a network of girders and metal plates, dominated by a massive rusting steel door. Flanking it on either side were two Brotherhood members and a sentry bot, slowly rattling back and forth between them. Making sure that Li and her people were going towards the Citadel behind him instead of haring off on another new and fantastically idiotic course, he decided to risk talking to his employer again, and walked up beside her.

"Cort?"

"What."

Relieved that she had responded in a somewhat positive form, he unburdened himself. "I'm sorry I knocked you out. I-I couldn't let you order me to stay, Li said they would have taken you, I couldn't let that happen. I'm fucking sorry, Cort. I promised I wouldn't hurt you, and I keep fucking doing it anyway. You need to, I mean _I_ need you to-"

"Charon?"

"Yes?"

"I forgive you. And don't worry, none of this is your fault." Reassured, he reached out for her, stopping abruptly when she continued. "Why don't you go stand over with Li and her group, I'm just going to need a few more minutes here before I can go." She half turned towards him and smiled a little, still looking out over the Potomac. "Charon?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Cort." Feeling marginally better, he slowly trudged up the hill to stand beside Li, hearing Cort sigh quietly behind him.

"_Daddy_."

* * *

**It** had been hard to make it this far. At first all she had wanted to do was go back and find her father, but she was clever enough even when falling apart to know that there was no way to get back to him and get the Project Purity staff out at the same time. She couldn't fail him by letting his people die. Watching the size of the Enclave's invading force only confirmed it. Li's talk had helped her find her senses, and made her realize that there was an easier way to find James, as long as she could keep up appearances, and Charon away from her. He had been around her for far too long and was far too perceptive because of it, and Cort knew he was aware that something was going on with her, if not what. She couldn't risk letting him get close enough to figure it out, or break her resolve.

Out of everything, that had been the worst of it. It was taking every iota of will she had not to break down and hold her arms out to him, wanting to be comforted and have her hair pulled and most of all, take the confused and hurt look off of his face. She had forgiven him shortly after Li had talked her down, understanding why he had done what he had, and willing to admit that she most likely would have done the same thing in his position. It had made it hard to keep going ahead with what she wanted to do, very hard, but she had found a simple way to drive the impulse to hold him away. Every time she had felt herself coming apart and wanting to touch him, she had focused on the chimes that were back in her head, loud, jangling and soothing all at once. It made it easy to ignore the ghoul and keep going, drowning out everything except the horrifying emptiness that her father's death had left. Cort positively wallowed in it, wanting to fill it up with herself. Everything was easier now that she wasn't fighting or close to the big man, and seeing it all happening from somehow outside of herself made what she had to do appear simple and clear.

Carefully not thinking about anything else except how she would soon be with James again, she looked down at the dog pressed against her leg. "Dogmeat, go sit with Charon. I need you to be not around for a little bit. Momma has some stuff to do." Ruffling his fur and watching him trot over to the ghoul where he stood next to Li at the intercom, she smiled, happy to have kept the promise to the dog, even if not quite in the same way she had meant when giving it to him. _This way I'm not leaving Charon alone, either. Dogmeat took care of me fine, he'll take care of him too when I'm gone_. Turning back to face the Memorial and bending down as if to scratch an itch, Cort took her combat knife out of her boot and quietly slit her wrists.

* * *

**Li** was angrily confronting the man to the right of the gate, helmetless with long brown hair and a mini-gun braced against one hip. He glanced blandly at Charon as he came up, then redirected his attention back to the scientist.

"I'm sorry Ma'am. No unauthorized civilians are allowed inside the Citadel. You'll have to leave, now."

"I have wounded people with me and no where else to go. Are you even paying _attention_ to what's going on across the river? I want your name and rank _right_ now!"

"It's Paladin Bael, Ma'am, and the other side of the river is not my priority. Guarding this gate is."

Charon looked down as Dogmeat suddenly sat beside him, whining, then rapidly turned to look for Cort. The dog hadn't left her side since she had woken up down in the tunnels, reassuringly close to her when he couldn't be. Spotting her where he had been ordered away from her last, he relaxed, feeling marginally relieved if still terrible. She was standing with her arms crossed in front of herself and shuddering slightly, which usually meant she was crying. _Finally, oh thank fuck. Maybe after she's done I can touch her again, and she can tell me what to do and I can fix everything._ Shooting a glance over his shoulder as Li yelled into the intercom, he returned his attention back to Cort, the waning sunlight shining on her back and reflecting off of the river, and the large puddle expanding at her feet. He was wondering where the water had suddenly come from, why it was the wrong colour, when she suddenly collapsed into it, her bloody knife skittering across the ground.

"_CORT_!" Everyone turned when he screamed, Li running behind him as he bolted down the hill towards the crumpled heap, Dogmeat at his side. Throwing himself down next to her, Charon turned Cort over, exposing what she had turned around to hide. Li touched down behind him a second later and started tearing at his pack. Her eyes were rolled up in her head, and both wrists had long slashes running up them, her front completely saturated in blood from where she had held them against her. "No, Cort, _no_. What the fuck did you _do_?" Placing his large hands over the cuts, he squeezed them brutally shut, letting out a noise halfway between a snarl and a sob when blood kept welling out from between his fingers.

Yelling out from behind him, Li continued to tear things out of his pack, flinging them everywhere. A cluster of grenades made it up to the foot of the Citadel, Bael swearing and almost hitting the dirt before he realized they all still had their pins in them. "Charon, where are they, where are your medical supplies!"

"The lunchbox. She puts everything breakable in the lunchboxes now." Pulling it loose, she yanked it open and took two Stimpaks and a blood pack out, scrambling around to plunge the syringes into Cort's arms, her knees skidding in the blood under them all as she did.

"Hold her right arm out straight. Do it, Charon!" Numbly complying, he watched as the woman plunged the needle of the blood pack into it, holding the bag aloft with her teeth as she lifted his fingers to check under them. Nodding at what she saw, she spat out the bag into her hand and then held it aloft as high as she could. "Good. Pick her up and follow me. Daniel! Alex! Get Cort's things and everything of Charon's I just scattered around and follow us inside. _Faster_ than that, Daniel!"

Bael leaned back, adjusting his Mini-gun. "The gate is still not opening for you, Ma'am." Not sparing a glance for the Paladin as he spoke to her, Li walked past him and rammed her free hand against the intercom button, yelling into it.

"It's _damn_ well about to. Lyons, I know you're in there and I know you can hear me! You open this Goddamned door right NOW!" Bael looked shocked and then rapidly hid the expression behind a stony one as the massive steel gate behind him started grinding upwards almost immediately, dirt falling from the giant teeth that had anchored it into the ground. "All right, everyone in, now." Charon followed closely behind her, trying to make sure the tubing connected to the blood pack stayed slack as Dogmeat wove in and around him, amazingly not tripping him over. Heading through a long courtyard framed with rubble, they came to a set of double doors opening into the Citadel proper.

Everything after that was a blur for the ghoul, until he finally found himself alone with his employer again. Li had placed the blood pack on top of his shoulder and then had a one-sided shouting match with an ancient man sporting a white beard, clad in some kind of messed up blue robe. A blonde woman in power armour had joined in at some point, and the old man had talked both of them down. Then everyone had turned to him, and all he had wanted to do was to start shooting or scream at every single one of them to do something. Cort was limp in his arms, blood-soaked and feeling like a dead weight. He didn't understand any of it, was surrounded by a fortress of people who generally made it a practice to try and exterminate his kind when they were bored, and he was all alone except for the dog. Charon didn't have any idea of what to do. _Oh fuck, Cort. what the fuck did _you _do?_

_

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_

**Even **if she was still breathing, it was almost like Cort had succeeded in killing herself, seeing the state that she was now in. After confronting Elder Owyn Lyons, and finding out that the only doctor the Citadel had in its clinic was a malfunctioning Mister Gutsy, Li had requested a room with a bed to put her in. Charon followed her silently through the degraded corridors to the small windowless one that the blonde woman had volunteered to lead them to, ignoring everyone they passed and placing her on the tattered bed when they arrived. Alex Dargon had trailed behind them with Cort's pack, haphazardly overstuffed with everything that Li had hauled out of his own, the repeater jammed down the back of it like a bizarre flower in a lumpy vase. Pulling the mess apart and waving at Alex to leave, Li took out the lunchbox she had used earlier, removing two more blood packs. "All right. I'll just get these in before I go and you should be set."

Charon looked at her, feeling even more panicked. "You're not _staying_?"

"I _can't_ stay with her, the Purifier is my first responsibility and there's no time to lose. I have to make sure that Lyons fully understands the ramifications of what just happened, and...and explain about James. From what he told me, you've been taking care of her for a long time already, and you're capable of doing everything I could at this point." Reaching over, she handed the new blood packs to him, inserting one into the same spot as the first after removing the spent bag, and the other into the back of her right hand. After finishing with that, she turned Cort's Pip-Boy over and poked at it until she found the health monitor screen. "Three should be enough according to this. When these have finished draining, take them out and apply pressure to where they were until they stop bleeding."

"I know what to do. I've used them before." Charon looked down at his employer. Her eyes were open again, but they were completely blank, and she hadn't reacted at all when Li had slid the needles into her. "What's wrong with her."

"At this point, what _isn't_ wrong with her is a better question." Li sighed. "I don't know Charon. My field of expertise doesn't cover much more in regards to medical care outside of what I've already done. That's...that _was_ James' specialty. My best guess is some kind of severe shock, which isn't surprising, considering. Keep her warm, keep her away from anything dangerous, and clean her up, she's absolutely filthy. It may not do anything for her, but it certainly couldn't hurt. I'll be back to check on her later, when I have a chance to." Straightening up, she headed for the door. "I'll have a word with Lyons in regards to you, but for the time being, I wouldn't leave the room unless absolutely necessary. The Brotherhood aren't known for being the most tolerant towards ghouls."

"No fucking shit." Charon kept staring down at the limp figure on the bed as Li left, shutting the door behind her. She was far too pale under the grime covering her, almost waxy looking, and her eyes still hadn't changed. The only movement in her aside from shallow, slow breathing was the occasional reflexive blink. Watching the last of the packs drain out, he removed them both and put each of his thumbs over the holes in her arm, almost taking his hands back when he touched her skin. For the first time ever, Cort felt colder than he did. Pressing down, he counted to ten and then removed his hands, moving her up to a sitting position when he confirmed she was no longer bleeding from where the needles had been. It was like posing a large doll, complete with dead glass eyes. He had found one once, in the rubble of a house somewhere long forgotten, and he had an obscene urge to tip her back again, wanting to see if her eyes would close then like the doll's had when he dropped it.

_Don't fucking think like that. She's not a fucking doll, she's alive._ Kneeling in front and grabbing a hold of her, he hugged her tightly, their armour creaking together the only sound in the room. Reaching up to tug on her hair, he became even more distressed when her head lolled back with the pressure, instead of staying still like it normally did so he could pull as hard as he wanted. Even worse was the fact that it stayed there when he let go, leaving her staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. Fighting down another surge of panic, he reached up and gently tilted her head back down to where it had been and then took her helmet off, putting both his hands carefully into her hair. "Cort, come on. Stop fucking around. Your fucking eyes are open, I know you're awake, so knock this shit off." Getting no response, he tried a different tack, one that usually provoked her. "Cort, it's my fault, _all_ of it's my fault. I'm ready to be punished. _Please _punish me, I deserve it. Please do ANYTHING!" Leaning forward again, he pressed his ruined lips to her soft ones and frantically rubbed behind her ears, waiting for her to kiss him back. When she didn't, he tried harder, pushing his tongue into her mouth. When he finally broke away, the sight of her stopped him from trying anything else. Mouth ajar and wet-lipped, it somehow made her vacant stare a thousand times worse. Delicately pushing up on her chin to close her mouth, he pulled her against him again and went entirely to pieces.

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_Thanks for the reviews, dudes! And for anyone now currently going insane with suspense, no you're not going to have to wait long for the next chapter. :P_


	61. Well, You're Not What I Expected

**Sarah** Lyons' world was currently experiencing a paradigm shift for a number of reasons. This morning, the worst thing she had to contend with was trying to figure out more efficient ways to track and eliminate the Super Mutant problem. The Brotherhood had been experiencing more and more resistance from the massive green monstrosities as time went on, and it was driving all of them crazy trying to figure out where they were coming from. In the past few months, it seemed like they were literally streaming into the DC core, almost as if they were searching for something. They had been seen dragging people away alive on more than one occasion, and the Scribes were baffled as to why some were killed, and others were carted away for God only knew what purpose. There were only two reasons the things would haul you off, and Sarah didn't like to think about either one of them. She wasn't sure which was worse.

What had tipped off this particular day as a banner affair was the sudden appearance of the Enclave across the Potomac. They had descended on the Jefferson Memorial like an armoured hammer sometime before noon, and were currently occupying it with a force field and any number of troops. Spotty reports were coming in from different units all over the city about them setting up small camps, and from the amount of Vertibirds that Bael reported spreading out, it was a safe bet that they had started filtering out through the Capital Wasteland. Sarah had wanted to organize resistance immediately, but her father Owyn Lyons had pressured her into waiting for more information to drift in, not wanting to initiate a flat-out war while the Brotherhood was spread so thin. While agreeing, she had already decided to subtly drop hints within Paladin Glade's hearing about how it would be prudent for the Outcasts to be informed of the changed power dynamic in the Wasteland as soon as possible, knowing that he at least sympathized and possibly traded information with them somehow. Even if they were prone to shooting at each other, both were still factions of the same machine, and neither had any great love for the remnants of the old government.

Finishing it up as something that would take a long time to shift from her memory, if it was even possible that it would, was the reappearance of the Vault kid the Pride had met at GNR and the staff of Project Purity(something so long-forgotten that it was almost an old wives' tale to the younger Knights and Paladins), _and_ the biggest damn ghoul Sarah had ever seen in her life. Doctor Li's appearance had sparked another argument concerning laying an offensive against the Enclave, once the woman had explained that the project leader James, Cort's father, had determined a way for the Purifier to actually work. Again Owyn had talked her down, along with Li, and then turned his attention to the ghoul and his pathetic bundle. Sarah wasn't entirely sure what had happened to the kid, only that her father's extremely recent death had had something to do with it, and she looked entirely shattered.

After finding out the only thing that passed for medical care in the Citadel was their dodgy Mister Gusty Sawbones, Li had demanded and received a room to put Cort in, which Sarah volunteered to lead them to, the Sentinel trying to keep a weather eye on the ghoul as he walked silently behind her. The room was dingy and small, but had working lights and a locking door. Set off one of the main corridors in A-Ring, they used it for the rare guest they had to entertain, or anyone who needed privacy of an intimate nature. Sarah had waited outside long enough for Li to reemerge, and then led the woman back to her father, where she briefed them fully on what had occurred that afternoon. After giving a complete rundown, the scientist had demanded lab space to continue her work in along with her staff, and Sarah nearly boggled when her father again capitulated almost immediately.

Left at loose ends when both Li and Owyn suddenly broke off to address their new concerns, she decided to check on the Vault kid. It had been months since she had seen the girl, and Sarah had personally always found a familiar face after going through a stressful situation to be helpful. Anything would have to be better than staying with a dim-witted ghoul that was probably barely smarter than the dog. She had been incredulous when Li had insisted the creature stay with Cort by itself, and again told, not asked, her father to ensure he would not be harassed, talking to him in a low aside about James' wishes(and again, he had folded without resistance. Whatever superpowers the woman had over the Elder, Sarah wanted them in spades).

Coming up to the room again, she paused for a moment, and then knocked on the door instead of barging in like she would normally do. After what Li had told them, Cort and her companions were probably still wound up, and the last thing she needed to do was start an inadvertent shooting match inside the Citadel. She was impatiently lifting her fist to knock again when a short whuff followed by a deep rasping voice issued out from the other side.

"Come in." Entering the room, she tried not to make a face at the smell of the ghoul in the enclosed area and then gaped anyway at what she saw. The Vault kid was stripped down to her underwear, limply sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at nothing, her dog standing behind her, pressed against her back. Looking at her, Sarah winced. The amount of scars visible over her was staggering, even with the majority of her covered in smeared blood and dirt. She had accumulated in a few months what looked like a lifetime total for some of the older -_much_ older- Brotherhood members. _How the hell is she even still _alive_, looking like that?_ Noticing the almost raw tissue running up her wrists, she blanched, realizing what had happened. _Fuck kid. There's enough shit out there trying to get you without helping it along_. Glancing across the room when she heard a noise, she saw the big ghoul was crouched over a loaded pack with a combat helmet in his hands, and he froze when he looked up and saw her. She blinked, puzzled when he turned to scowl at the dog lying on the bed and started scolding it. "I thought you said it was okay to let them in. Who the hell is that, anyway?"

The dog stared back at him blandly, in what she could only read as a 'why are you asking me, idiot' look, and Sarah shook her head to clear it, finding everything already far too surreal for her liking. "I'm Sentinel Sarah Lyons, and-" She glared at the ghoul, outraged when he cut her off and continued moving back to the bed, kneeling beside it and setting the helmet next to the girl, upside down.

"Oh. Yeah, she talked about you. What the hell do you want."

"I wanted to see how the kid was doing. Doctor Li said she was awake but pretty torn up. I-I wasn't expecting this though."

"Who the fuck would." Sarah opened her mouth to respond, and then stopped. The ghoul had pulled a dripping rag out of the helmet and wrung it out over the top of it, the drops plinking back into the water she now realized it was filled with. Dumbfounded, she watched as he started to gently clean Cort's face, washing it thoroughly and then moving down to her neck as the dog sat down and started licking at her back. He was carefully rubbing the cloth around the inside of her right ear when he angrily glanced back over. "Well? Did you just come to watch her like some freak show, or is there something else you required?" Not waiting for an answer he moved his attention to her hands, holding up the helmet to soak the left one in, the Pip-Boy's glove turned almost entirely black from the gore smeared over it. Discomfited by what he had said, Sarah spoke up again as he started to clean each of the kid's fingers, delicately working a folded point of the rag under each nail as he moved along her hand.

"Did you need anything?" He stopped, looking almost comically surprised for a moment before the previous morose expression came back to replace it and he continued his work.

"More water. A bucket of it, at least. I'll run out of what we have before I finish. And clean blankets." He paused again. "Please."

"I'll be right back." Leaving the room and quietly shutting the door, Sarah went to get the items herself instead of delegating the task to an initiate, not wanting anyone else to see the kid in the state she was in. _Hell, I'd beat the living _shit_ out of anyone who saw me like that, and most of the initiates aren't big on brains. They'd probably panic and shoot the ghoul on sight._ She grimaced internally, thinking about the newest crop of Wastelander recruits. _Or try to and fail horribly_. By the time she had got back with a filled bucket in each hand and a blanket tucked under both arms, the water in the helmet was entirely opaque and the ghoul had stopped using it, instead doing something she found even more bizarre. "You're brushing her _hair_?"

He leveled a disgusted stare at her before returning to the snarl he was working out of the tangled black mass. "Obviously."

Sarah stood there feeling stupid for a while, and angry at herself for doing so. _ I'm the leader of Lyon's Pride, the most elite squad of the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel, and a damned rotbag is making me feel like a moron. This is such a proud moment in my career. _She opened her mouth, then quickly swore at herself for how idiotic she sounded. "I brought your stuff." Striding over, she dropped the buckets next to him and threw the blankets at the foot of the bed.

"Thank you." Putting the brush down when he had finished, he pulled the closest bucket over and resumed cleaning the filth off of Cort, having stopped at her midriff. He silently made his way down to her feet before looking back over. "Turn around."

"What?"

"If you're not going to leave, then turn the fuck around. She won't like you watching this." He stared at her, clearly exasperated when all she did was scowl at him, then hooked one finger under the strap of the kid's bra and raised an eyebrow, the dog astonishingly turning his head far enough to give her the same look. "I need to clean the rest of her off and change her clothes. This thing is supposed to be _white_, not red. So if you really wouldn't mind, be polite, turn around, and let her keep whatever fucking dignity she has left to hold onto or get the _fuck_ out." Flushing out of embarrassment and indignation, Sarah did as she was directed. If he was any indication, ghouls were a lot more articulate than she had been led to believe, and it was throwing her off her normal authoritative stride. Staring at the wall, she found it was much easier to think when she was only listening and not directly looking at the insanely odd trio.

"So where the hell did she pick you up? She only had the dog with her when she encountered the us the last time."

"Underworld. Ghoul city."

"Of course, where else. Stupid question. Mercenary?"

"Yes."

"You work for her?"

"I _am_ hers."

Watching him reach past her into one of the packs against the wall to pull out a clean set of underthings and a faded Vault suit, Sarah wrinkled her nose in disgust. Cort hadn't struck her as the slaver type, and the idea of owning even a ghoul was distasteful. "She _bought _you?"

"_Fuck_ no, shithead. That's not what I meant."

Bristling at the insult, she snapped back at him. "Then what the fuck _did_ you mean, rotface?" She listened as he sighed and finished redressing the kid, hearing him slowly run the zipper up the suit.

"I'm hers, she's mine. We're together."

Sarah spun around, morally affronted on a deep personal level. "_What_? But you're...you're...that's _disgusting_!"

He shrugged, carefully rolling a sock up one of Cort's feet. "I agree. Cort however, will break your fucking face for saying that."

"Yeah well, she doesn't look like she could break a sweat right now." Sarah instantly regretted the petty words before they were entirely out of her mouth, having genuinely liked the kid when they parted back at GNR. Seeing the naked grief breaking out on the ghoul's ruined face before he could hide it turned the regret into shocked sadness and guilt. "I'm sorry. It's just people don't normally, well, _ever_...I mean, even _think_ about that."

"She's not normal. She's different." Moving the fouled helmet and bucket aside after finishing with the other sock, he then picked Cort up and braced her against his right hip. Motioning the dog off of the bed with his free hand, he flicked one of the blankets out over the mattress when the animal jumped down, tugging at the corners to spread it evenly before laying her back onto it. Folding her arms neatly over her front, he spread the other blanket over her and tucked it in as Sarah walked over to look at her. Her eyes were still open and still vacant, caught up in a thousand-yard stare that she recognized.

"Yeah, I remember." The ghoul sat down beside Cort and started stroking her hair as the dog hopped back up to press against her side. Infuriatingly finding herself wanting to make up to them both for being rude, she blurted out something reassuring to him. "She'll get better, you know. I've seen this before."

"_What_?" He whipped his head up and stared at her, chalky eyes making direct eye contact and holding it for the first time since she had come in.

"It's shell shock. Battle fatigue, stress disorder. Whatever you want to call it, the scribes give it a new label every few years. Same shit, different name. We get some initiates in with it every few months when fighting with the Super Mutants gets particularly bad. Sometimes the higher ranks, but not often."

"How do I fix her." The ghoul looked at her avidly, his face almost feverishly hopeful as the sullenness dropped away from it, and Sarah tried to remember everything they had done for the members who had suffered through it for him.

"Treat her like you normally would. Talk to her, take her out around the Citadel where she can see people. A-Ring is a good place to start, the mess hall is in here, the Great Hall. All of the Pride will talk to her, they know her already and I'll tell them what's going on. You'll probably have to carry her for the first little while, then lead her, then just tell her to follow you." Sarah delicately cleared her throat. "Feed her, take her to the washroom. She should eat and, uh, otherwise when you prompt her to automatically. Eventually, she'll start doing everything herself and come out of it entirely."

Giving her a relieved and almost peaceful expression, he quickly scowled again, moving his unsettling eyes to stare at her armour. "Do I have to worry about anyone trying to blow my fucking brains out if I go outside, or did Li take care of that?"

"She talked to Elder Lyons, yes. I'll make sure that everyone knows it as well."

He snorted. "And that'll work?"

"Anyone who even _thinks_ about going against my orders automatically risks losing part of their anatomy. Usually the fun parts." Sarah wasn't positive, but she thought she saw the ghoul's mouth twitch at her statement.

"You have an armoury, right?"

Sarah started at the bizarre question. "We're the fucking Brotherhood of Steel, what do you think." She definitely saw his mouth twitch this time, she was sure of it.

"Can you store our weapons there? Li said to keep her away from them. I'll need to sleep eventually, and I can't have them in the room, she's too quick." His hand tightened in her hair before he let go, smoothing it out again. "She's always too quick. I didn't see it."

Tactfully ignoring his last statement, she nodded. "Of course, just get them together and I'll take them down." Getting up, he walked over to the packs and pulled a tattered blanket loose, then laid an old repeater and a combat shotgun on top of it, following them with a 10mm pistol from his hip. Sarah watched bemusedly and then rapidly changed the expression to nonplussed as the ghoul continued to pile their arsenal together. Following the 10mm were four identical spares and a silenced one, then two Chinese assault rifles, a baseball bat, a retractable police baton, a pile of mines, a ludicrous amount of pulse and frag grenades from both packs and the pouches on his belts, no less than five combat knives, three switchblades, and a short club with a smeared green end that she couldn't make heads or tails out of. She was moving to bundle it together when the ghoul clapped his hands, the dog hopping down immediately and coming over to him. Opening pouches on the animal's armour, he pulled out another 10mm, even more grenades, and then amazingly removed a scoped .44 Magnum that most of the small arms specialists in the Citadel would have killed to own. Crossing her arms and shaking her head, she raised an eyebrow. "Is that it, or is the Fat Man she had before hidden up one of your asses?"

Another mouth twitch. "No, I made her leave that behind." Wrapping the bundle up, he tied it off with a length of rope withdrawn from one of the packs, then started removing his armour.

"Smart move. She was way too goofy over that thing for it to be safe." He got a strange, introspective look at her words, and made his next statement almost to himself.

"She named the fucking thing _George_ and actually _slept_ with it on the way back to Megaton."

Sarah snorted and grinned, picturing what he said all too easily. "You're _shitting_ me."

"Do I _look_ like I'm shitting you?" He barked out a surprised laugh before his face fell again, and he ran a hand over it, squeezing his temples as he closed his eyes. Sighing heavily, he went back to removing the rest of his armour, piling everything neatly in the far corner before returning to sit next to Cort and the dog. He looked monumentally exhausted, and Sarah decided it was time to leave, the strange, somehow enlightening conversation she had just had with the ghoul making her feel like she had spent too long trying to run uphill. Picking up the bundle of weapons, she paused at the door, wanting to know something she suddenly found to be very important.

"What's your name?"

He looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Charon."

"Good luck, Charon."

"Thanks, Sarah."

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_Thanks for the new reviews and favs! And suspense is fun, c'mon admit it. :]_


	62. Interlude at the Citadel

_If you guys think this is sadism, wait until I start the next installment. ;) as always, thanks for the new reviews!_

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**If** any of the Brotherhood were hoping to get a rise out of a ghoul by insulting them, they had picked entirely the wrong one to start trying it with. Charon was completely unperturbed by anything they said regarding him, and if they said anything about Cort, he gave no visible indication that he had heard that either. His only reaction was to alter where he took her in the following days, spending more time in the Great Hall where the Pride generally stayed and less in the more varied atmosphere of the mess hall. Weirdly, the pair spent the majority of it sitting next to Knight Captain Gallows if he was there, who would also sit next to them if he came in and spotted them at the big table, usually coming in from one of his solo night operations. If the stoic Knight and the acerbic ghoul had talked at all, none of the other members had been around to see it, and the girl certainly hadn't said anything one way or the other. Kodiak and Dusk were fairly sure they had seen Gallows talking to _her_ on more than one occasion, his ever-present helmet inclined down towards whatever ear of hers he was next to, but he stopped whenever anyone got within hearing distance.

At one point or another, all of the Brotherhood members in the Citadel had sought out the pair to ogle at one or the both of them, wanting to see the Vault kid who had killed a Behemoth, the storied James' daughter, out of interest or concern over her condition, or just morbid curiosity in seeing someone who would screw a shuffler, if Daniel Agincourt could be believed. None of the other staff from Project Purity would say anything, and when questioned, Li only muttered something about it being the 23rd century, and 'don't you think you should all get with the times?', before caustically telling whoever it was to get the hell out of the lab space she had been assigned. Some were only taking advantage of the rare opportunity to observe a living sentient ghoul up close, and were surprised to find a lot of the assumed facts concerning them had been inaccurate. Regardless of motivation, while they were there, they all saw something _else_ that surprised them.

The ghoul had spent the first few days quietly carrying her everywhere, setting her down in different areas where she could presumably observe what was going on. He took her to sit and watch Paladin Gunny training the initiates, down into the Laboratory to see the massive robot Liberty Prime that the scribes were slaving over, and into the Library(Scribe Jameson had wonderingly reported to others that he spent his time there reading to her, exhausting the contents of the terminals one by one). He would take her around the Bailey several times a day, at first with her in his arms and then leading her by the hand when she started walking on her own, the dog heeling precisely behind her no matter the pace. Anyone spotting them in the Great Hall in the first few days would usually find him carefully feeding her there, breaking everything into small pieces before putting it into her mouth, and then watching attentively when she started doing it herself.

Observing them over the few weeks Cort was insensible, the ghoul's unwavering, patient attendance shifted the opinions of those capable of changing them, Sarah Lyons' ball-busting methods taking care of anyone else who decided to make an issue out of it. A militaristic culture of people dependent on each other for their very lives, almost all of them had been responsible for another member's care in the field at one point or another in their careers, or been taken care of themselves. While certainly the most bizarre nursemaid they had ever seen, they could place the ghoul into an appropriate and recognizable pigeonhole because of this, making his presence more acceptable to a group bound by hard line rules and regulations. Owyn Lyons had cemented the idea when he was heard describing Charon to a group of new initiates as the girl's aide-de-camp, unfailingly dutiful to an injured superior squad-mate, using it as a lesson on loyalty for the green recruits. If Willow, Quinn, and the other ghouls outside around the DC area noticed a significant drop off in the potshots taken at them by the Brotherhood after their shifts were rotated out at the end of the month, they wondered only briefly at the cause before deciding not to push their luck by looking a gift Brahmin in the mouths.

* * *

**Waking** up was the part of Charon's life that he currently hated the most, discovering every morning that nothing about it had changed. Going to bed was easy, another day gone, escaping from the attentions of the smoothskins filling the Citadel and back into the tiny room he shared with Cort and the dog. Returning briefly the first evening, Li had told him Elder Lyons had given them permission to stay there indefinitely, and not to worry about being harassed if they left it. Whatever else had been said over the events back at the Jefferson, the ghoul decided he didn't give a damn about it and didn't ask. He had his own problems to deal with. Sarah's statement about her recovery had proven to be correct, and after several days Cort had started walking and eating again when told, although her face remained blank and he still had to dress and wash her. The first time she had picked up her own food, he had been ecstatic, hoping that it meant she had come out of her stupor, but she hadn't responded to his gentle prodding to talk. He had gotten Irving Gallows to try when he came in one morning, and while she listened to him telling her to eat, she still didn't speak when asked to.

Contrary to his normal feelings regarding smoothskins, or anyone for that matter, Charon found himself liking the Knight Captain. He had inquired about Cort after the ghoul had silently sat next to him in the Great Hall for close to an hour while feeding her, asking in a no-nonsense way devoid of lewd interest, false sympathy, or insults based on either of their conditions, all of which he was completely tired of hearing after the first hour spent outside of their quarters. He had delivered the information in the same monotone the request had been given in and returned his attention to his employer, telling her about how to efficiently snipe bloatflies(the little buzzing bastards made for _excellent _practice, and he found that if you could hit them you could hit anything) when she had finished eating all of the apple he had broken apart for her. Gallows had spent another thirty minutes sitting in silence listening to him talk, and then had struck up a conversation about Spec Ops, both of them interestedly trading information about different stealth techniques and sniper rifle modifications until other people had come into the big room. The next morning he had sat by them again, and Charon had asked him to talk to her whenever possible, having discovered that the quiet man wouldn't speak to Cort like she was a brainless idiot. He talked to her continuously when they were together, about everything from lining up the perfect shot on a Super Mutant the previous evening to the betting pool Paladin Glade was running on his first name, all of it delivered in a mellow conversational tone, as if he was having a normal, everyday chat with someone instead of giving a monologue. He only stopped when anyone else came close enough to hear what he was saying.

Aside from making sure she was spoken to, Charon took Cort everywhere he could inside the Citadel. He had briefly considered trying to take her back to Megaton or Underworld, wondering if sticking her in front of the damned bartender or Carol or Barrows would fix her, and then dismissed the idea as being too risky. Finding the Laboratory and the Library had made him particularly hopeful, sure that either one would stimulate her into finally snapping out of it, especially with the ridiculously large robot contained in the former. Neither had worked, but he had dutifully read everything he found in the latter until he had run through it all, whether he understood the contents of the terminals or not. Sitting in their room this evening, four weeks after James had died, he was currently working his way through her copy of Paradise Lost, trying not to get a headache from the dense language. Leaning against the headboard, he had placed Cort against his chest, his long legs propped up on either side of her as he held the book out in front where she could see it. Dogmeat was curled up on the floor, his two-toned eyes watching both of them intently as the ghoul read aloud.

"...At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds. Thus incorporeal Spirits to smallest forms reduc'd...what the hell? Reduced? We'll go with reduced. Thir...there's supposed to be an 'e' in that, and it's fucking going in there...shapes immense, and were at large, though without number still amidst the Hall, of that infernal Court. But far within and in their own dimensions like themselves, the great...the great...Jesus Christ, Cort, you're going to have to explain half of this shit to me when you come around. What the fuck are 'Seraphic Lords and Cherubim'?" At some point he had started picking up her method of swearing, using it as a way to comfort himself. "Whoever Milton was, he couldn't spell worth a Goddamn." Sighing, he closed the book and dropped it onto the floor, then wrapped his arms tightly around her. "Time to go to sleep Cort, it's late. I'll read to you some more tomorrow. Maybe then you can tell me what that shit is, huh?" Pressing his face into her hair, he inhaled to check something, nodding to himself when he picked up mostly her own scent. He had gotten into the habit of washing her every other day, noticing more than one person scrunching up their nose after leaning in close to talk to her in the beginning. Considering how sweaty the armoured Brotherhood members got, he assumed it wasn't in reaction to anything that normally came off of a smoothskin, and had more to do with his own particular stench rubbing off on her.

Reaching out one arm he motioned to the dog, who hauled himself up to trot over to the door. Jumping up to claw at the light switch, he plunged the room into darkness and then returned to where he had been to sprawl out. "Good mutt." Charon rolled over onto his right side, carefully taking Cort with him. This was his favourite time of day. Before sleeping, he could pretend that she was too tired to talk about anything, too tired to hold onto his hand, and almost fool himself into believing that everything was fine or would be fine in the morning. All he had to do was close his eyes, feel how warm she was, and dream. _Maybe tomorrow morning she'll be back. Maybe all she needs is to sleep enough. It'll be tomorrow, I know it._ Tomorrow he would wake up and have his hopes dashed all over again, and plan out what to do to pass the day with her next, but for now he could think about her waking up in the morning, back to as normal as she ever got and entirely there. Tired and wanting to get away from his own thoughts, he slipped under without waiting to hear her fall asleep, knowing it would happen shortly since he had told her to.

Quietly, and to no one in particular, a hoarse voice hesitantly spoke out some time after Charon had started making his wheezing snores, Dogmeat's tail thumping ecstatically when it did. "They're two orders of angels...first sphere...Old Testament."

* * *

**Cort** slowly started waking up exactly thirty days after her father died in front of her. She remembered everything that had happened while she was out of it, although it felt like she had been watching herself on some surreal holotape program. She didn't particularly want to do either. Waking up _hurt_, remembering made it worse. Coming back into herself meant she had to feel everything, the pain of losing James, the mortification she felt for existing as the insensible lump she had turned into in front of so many strangers, and shame over what she had done, to herself and Charon. Thinking about everything he had done for her made her want to fold in on herself all over again, and she didn't react when he got up in the morning and flicked the light on, only continued to play the shell she had lived in for the past month while she tried to figure out what to do. She almost cracked when he sat her up and looked at her hopefully, his face falling a moment later when she did nothing but stare blankly back. _Fuck. What do I do, how do I even act after all this. He's going to go crazy if I just spit out a 'howdy and good morning' to him. I don't know if I could take that. I can't even take myself right now, I don't know if I'm even me...am I still me?_ She confusedly ran through every possible reaction she could think of as he brushed out her hair, still not having reached a conclusion by the time he picked up her left hand in his right one and tugged, grabbing an apple and a can of Cram from her pack on the way to the door. Following him, she kept trying to figure things out. Thinking _hurt_, and she still wasn't entirely clear-headed.

"Come on, jackass, let's go eat. Maybe Gallows will be in there this morning, it's early enough. He can tell you about blowing the heads off of things. You like that." Heading out of their room and down into the Great Hall, they found it empty except for the silent Knight Captain. Looking around carefully first to make sure there was no one else there, Charon led her over to the table and sat her down next to Gallows' right, then took the seat on the other side of her. "Hey Irving."

"Charon. Cort."

"Pool go on you yet?" Wrapping both massive hands around the apple, Charon pulled it apart with a snap, rapidly breaking it into smaller pieces and setting them in front of her before opening the can of Cram for himself and Dogmeat. "Eat, Cort." She did, listening to the two men talk. The ghoul still hadn't brought any of their weapons up from the armoury, including any of their knives he could have used to cut the fruit up with, leaving himself completely unarmed for her benefit. Chagrined for a new reason on top of everything else, Cort suppressed the urge to join her dog under the table.

"Nope. Up to a thousand caps now."

"Holy fuck. Ever going to let them drag an answer out of you?"

"Hell no, this is way too much fun. Drives them absolutely _crazy_. Besides, the anonymity means they leave me alone more than they would otherwise. I hate it when they bother me."

Charon shook his head and smiled, absently reaching over to nudge a bit of apple closer to one of Cort's hands. "You can be a total bastard, you know that?"

Gallows sounded pleased under his helmet. "Why yes, yes I can. Thank you kindly for noticing." Both men fell quiet as the sound of armoured footsteps started echoing up the hall, followed by voices.

'Do they still have you posted as Quartermaster, Durga?" Cort slowly blinked. She knew that voice, knew the man it belonged to from somewhere. She was puzzling over it as a little brunette woman in recon armour came through the door, answering the question.

"Yeah, not that I wanna. I'd rather be out in the field with all of you, sir."

"Not with the set of initiates I've been saddled with. You wouldn't believe what they've been sending out." Coming in behind her was a sandy-haired man in power armour, his helmet tucked under one arm. Seeing his face didn't help her recognize him, and she assumed wherever she had run into him, the helmet had been in place. She was fairly sure that whenever that had been, she hadn't liked him very much, if the way she was being irritated by his appearance was any indication.

"Yes I would sir, I get to hear Gunny bitch about them every day. You wouldn't _believe _what they manage to do to the training weapons, I've spent hours fixing the damn things to only get them back a day later, jammed all to hell. How did your last one, whatshisface, Trouse turn out?"

Cort blinked again, trying to work through the fog still clinging to the edges of her mind. _Trouse. Christ, I know that name. Trouse. Initiate Trouse._

"Middling. I had him rotated out to GNR after he lost his nerve during an incident with some ghouls. Had trouble following through on orders to shoot after that, got obsessed with double-checking his targets." Looking away from Durga for a seat, the man Cort was wracking her brains over jerked to a halt. "Speaking of. What's the meaning of this, Knight Captain?" Durga glanced up to where he was now pointing.

"What? Oh. That's just Charon, sir, he's usually in here this time of day. Gets up early." She breezily waved an arm at the ghoul, who nodded back. "So did you need anything repaired or-"

"Hold on just a minute, Durga. What do you mean, he's 'usually in here this time of day'. What the hell is a shuffler doing in here at _all_?" The man glowered as Charon let out an exaggerated sigh, leaned back in his chair and then balanced on the rear legs of it while rolling his eyes. Staring at the ceiling, he missed Cort blinking twice in rapid succession.

* * *

**Durga** winced at the slur, knowing full well what would happen if Sentinel Lyons heard him saying it. She could admit to herself that she didn't like it very much anymore either, having gotten to know Charon a couple weeks earlier when he had pointed out an easier way to repair combat shotguns in exchange for telling the Vault kid a story. He had done similar things all over the Citadel, duly following what advice Sarah and other veterans had given him in regards to the girl, the Brotherhood members goaded into agreeing when the ghoul told them he knew how to do something better than they could. "He's taking care of Cort sir, the Vault kid Sentinel Lyons met at GNR a few months ago. They've been staying here since the incident at the Jefferson. Sir, didn't anyone tell you when you came back to the Cita-"

"You're telling me there's one of those rotten things staying here, in the headquarters of the Brotherhood." Another quick set of blinks, joined by a nostril twitching.

Feeling the proverbial hole that was being dug by the conversation reach somewhere around neck level, Durga restricted herself to a monosyllabic reply. "Yes, sir." She frowned. He was looking at the ghoul and Cort in an extremely odd and somehow nervous way she couldn't figure out.

"Well I want both of them out of here right now, Knight Captain. I don't care who the kid is, and it is inexcusable for the Great Hall of all places to be sullied by the presence of that walking corpse."

Durga latched onto her standing orders like a life preserver while shooting furious glances at Gallows. _Man, I _know_ you're in there, come out and _help_ me or whatever, anything. _"I'm sorry sir, I can't do that sir. Standing orders for everyone are to let them go wherever they please while she recuperates from her injuries, without harassment of any kind. She's got some kind of shell shoc-"

"_What_? Standing orders from whom?"

"Elder and Sentinel Lyons, sir." She put a hand behind her back and started flicking her fingers wildly at the other Knight Captain. _Gallows, you jerk, come on, back me the hell up here. Say something, stand up, I'd settle for you picking your freaking nose at this point._

_

* * *

_

**Gallows** twigged to the oncoming storm brewing up in Cort before anyone else did, having a particularly sensitive set of skills and his own quiet, observing nature to rely on. He noticed things others didn't. The rapid blinking had gotten his attention first off. What he saw next was her left ear moving slightly back as her jaw clenched, the part of her face he could see tightening imperceptibly as Jeffries continued to slag the ghoul, Durga trying to deflect him and failing. What he heard was a subtle pick up in her rate of breathing, ticking slowly and quietly up into high gear. Taking the information in, he made the very correct judgment that something extremely interesting was about to happen. Not wanting to foul it up for any reason(including Durga's increasingly frantic attempts to draw him into interfering), especially if it was going to pull the kid out of herself, he remained silent and let the situation play out. He didn't have to wait long.

* * *

**"You're** telling me, that in the intervening time I've been away, Elder Lyons has decided to suddenly allow a brain-eating pile of _filth_ to wander to and fro through the Citadel, including the restricted areas, with a brain_less_ invalid? Instead of doing the proper thing and putting a _bullet_ into its head?"

Giving up on Gallows, Durga snapped back an immediate reply, hoping that she would be turned loose sooner than later. All she had wanted to do was come out for a bowl of Sugar Bombs before starting her work for the day, and now they were being metaphorically pissed in. "Yes sir, Paladin Jeffries sir, that's exactly what I'm saying, sir."

Recognition of the man finally clicked home in Cort's head with a quiet, satisfyingly vicious snap, sliding almost sensually into place next to the fury the Paladin's statements had produced, and burning clean every dusty pathway left in her mind. "_Jeffries_."


	63. Too Late to Hit the Snooze Button

**Things** happened quickly for everyone then. Charon dropped his chair back down so fast he nearly fell off of it entirely, and he stood up like a shot, elated. Gallows tilted forward in his own to get a better view and folded his gloved hands on the table, not wanting to miss anything. Durga snapped her head around to look at where Cort had been, an incredulous grin starting to break out on her face before she noticed she wasn't there anymore. And Jeffries-Jeffries was suddenly flat on his back, having his own helmet beaten about his head by Cort, who had gone completely berserk.

"YOU FUCKING POMPOUS, SHIT-EATING _BASTARD_! DON'T YOU _DARE_ TALK ABOUT HIM THAT WAY!"

Charon practically flew over the table, trying to grab Cort's arms when he got to the other side and yelling at Durga while he smiled crazily. "Drag him away, she'll fucking _kill_ him if we don't get her off!"

"Are you kidding? He's in full armour!" Watching Jeffries land solid punches into both her jaw and side, Durga waited for the kid to go down, boggling when all she did was screech even louder and redouble her assault.

"OH IT'S _ON,_ MOTHERFUCKER!" Transferring the helmet to her right hand and using it as a block for his swings, Cort started darting her left one in and viciously raking all the exposed skin she could get at, spitting out blood from where she had bitten her tongue after the blow to her face. "TRY SHOOTING ME _NOW_, YOU DICKLESS LITTLE_ BITCH_!"

"Not full enough, she's off her Goddamned nut! Now fucking pull!" Charon wrapped both arms around Cort's midsection and yanked just as she started to go for the Paladin's eyes, the ghoul laughing like a loon as he got her loose, her legs windmilling in the air. Durga had time to lay her hands on Jeffries' pauldrons before he pushed her away and stood up, his face a network of clawmarks and swollen tissue.

"You damned crazy Vault rat, I'll have you _shot_ for this! I don't give a shit _who_ you are, your ass is mi-" He hit the floor again as Cort screamed and whipped his helmet across the room, smartly nailing him in the forehead and knocking him out cold. Grunting contentedly as she watched him hit the floor with a dull clang, she swung her legs and smiled, still dangling from Charon's arms.

"Yeah, well, your ass is grass and I'm the _fucking_ lawnmower." She started squirming, ignoring the blossoming ache in her side, wanting to get down as her mind continued clicking through the strange sort of auto-pilot she had fallen into. _I need to get down, let me go, I'm not done, I need to finish killing Jeffries, I'm going to kill and COOK that sonofabi_-

"_Cort_?"

Charon spoke up behind her, _directly_ behind her, and she felt herself snap out of it, followed up quickly by a pure streak of fear. _Oh. Right. Oh, shit, shit, God help me._ Less than a second later she was being spun around and placed back on her feet, two large hands cradling the sides of her face as the ghoul peered into her eyes intently, searching for something. Cort quailed, not ready or willing for anything to come back yet, wanting to hide in herself again but fully unable to hide from him anymore. "W-wuh-_what_."

"Oh thank fuck, you're there, I see you."

"You see me? I'm here?"

"Well fuck _yes_, you jackass, of course I do. You're _back_." Charon was leaning in, his heart practically soaring out of his chest as he bent his face down to hers. She was there, she could give him purpose again, _orders_, and he wouldn't have to worry about being directionless again. His relief lasted for about as long as it took Cort to slide out of his hands and hit the floor at his feet, bawling. "_Cort_?"

* * *

**Sarah** Lyons was pelting down the hall, Vargas and Kodiak close behind her. They had been in the far end of A-Ring, getting ready to move down to the Great Hall for an early planning meeting when they heard a distant, thumping clang and the Vault kid screaming. All three of them had spun around, Vargas swearing.

"Aww _shit_, Sarah. She woke up crazy."

Looking at him grimly, Sarah started to dog-trot down the hallway, picking up speed when she heard Charon yell about her killing someone. "I think that particular state is standard operating procedure for her." They rounded a corner, and she yelled out herself as armoured and robed bodies started piling out of doorways, rapidly jerking back into them as her voice rang out, overlapped by another scaling, wild scream. "_Make a hole_!" Getting closer, she could hear more muffled yelling, punctuated by a strange bonging noise as they came in sight of the Great Hall. Tearing into the room the Sentinel and both Paladins skidded to a halt, Sarah only avoiding stomping all over the armoured figure falling to the floor by a set of graceful maneuvers that looked like some kind of strange ballet, Kodiak and Vargas clinging to each other to keep from going down. Getting over the prone man with a queer and nearly uncontrolled little deer hop, she fetched up next to Durga, who was moving her head back from the unconscious lump to the wailing one, gaping like a goldfish watching a tennis match.

Sarah shook her head and took stock as Kodiak and Vargas realized what they were doing and jerked upright, then crouched to the man on the floor, the latter giving her a thumbs up to show he was still breathing. It was one of the Paladins -Jeffries, if she recalled right- out cold on the floor, looking like a miniature Yao Guai had had a full round with his face. There were multiple bleeding scrapes all over it and what looked like one hell of a crop of bruises forming. Cort was piled in a heap on the floor at Charon's feet, crying her eyes out while she clung to the dog. Charon had both hands laced behind his neck as he shifted from foot to foot, and if Sarah had ever wondered how a person would look if they were ecstatic and horrified at the same time, she now had one hell of a mental reference picture courtesy of the ghoul. Turning entirely around, she saw Knight Captain Gallows observing everything like a metal golem, hands neatly folded on the table as he serenely examined the tableau before him. Caught halfway between irritation and amusement at the fact that he was just sitting there, she at least felt relieved that there would be an accurate description of whatever the hell had just went on. Gallows was quiet to the point of being mute, but he missed nothing, and she went straight for him.

"Gallows, what the hell happened in here?"

"Cort took umbrage with Jeffries over a personal difference of opinion."

A _uniquely_ accurate description of what the hell had just went on. Sarah leaned her fists on the tables and beat down the urge to pinch her nose. "Over?" She waited as Gallows timed his reply with one of Cort's exhales, avoiding having to raise his own voice.

"Jeffries was of the opinion that Charon was a person of low value and should have been dragged outside and shot in the head, although he expressed it in more colourful terms." He paused, then decided to keep going. "Cort started coming around when he started to communicate his position, and as a rejoinder, she attacked him with his own helmet. Then Charon pulled her off. Then she knocked him out with it." He paused again and continued, which was practically babbling for him at this point. "It was an excellent display of marksmanship for such an oddly shaped projectile and insufficiently stable footing."

"_Thank you_, Gallows." Feeling like she had been already awake for the entire day, for the _week_, she turned to Durga after taking another look at Jeffries. _Holy shit, Charon wasn't kidding about her breaking someone's face. She really _must_ be doing...doing that. _She gave a little shudder, still not comfortable with the concept_._ "And you? That sound about right?"

Durga abruptly snapped her mouth shut and straightened. "Ma'am, yes Ma'am. He also insulted the girl personally, Ma'am."

"Did anyone inform him of the special orders pertaining to them?"

"I did Ma'am. He, uh...he kept going." Looking at Lyons' face, Durga decided Jeffries was going to regret his actions in numerous, possibly creatively produced ways.

"Right. That's all for now Durga, I'm sure you've got work ahead of you. Gunny's taking more initiates out for target practice in about thirty minutes, and you'll have cleanup to do almost immediately if they're true to form."

Looking grateful, the little Knight Captain crept out of the room, edging daintily around the three Paladins clustered in the doorway(the first still impersonating a bloody paperweight) and beat feet. "Yes Ma'am, thank you Ma'am!"

Feeling like she was running in circles, Sarah turned around again, looking at Cort this time. The kid was still wailing at more or less top volume, and the ghoul was now crouched beside her, trying to peel her off of the dog and pick her up at the same time. _I don't need this this early in the morning. Hell, I don't need it period. I'm happy you're awake, kid, but fuck what a mess._ "Vargas, Kodiak, why don't you drag Jeffries down to the clinic. I'll have a word with him later." Watching them haul the man off, she looked back to Charon. "Do you have anything to add?"

"I'm a little _busy_ right now." He had succeeded in removing one of Cort's arms from the dog, and now she had both of them in a stranglehold. Giving up, he sat down next to her and wrapped his own arms around the pair, sighing as he looked up at Sarah. "This is going to take a few minutes."

"I'll bet, so you definitely have time to _answer_. Now what the fuck happened?"

She wasn't prepared for the brilliant smile that broke out on his ruined face. "What the fuck do you mean what happened, she's back! If I'd known putting her next to some asshole that tried to off her would work _that_ fucking well, I would have done it way before now."

Sararh blinked as the peculiar statement sunk in. "..._What_?"

The ghoul continued, happily rambling as Cort started winding down into short snuffles and brays. "Not that there's really that many, she usually gets them immediately, she's fucking brutal once she gets going." He paused and looked thoughtful. "That might have been the only one I could've found, actually."

"Wait, what? What the _fuck_ are you talking about?"

Charon looked at her like she was dense. "Jeffries. Assuming you operate in the field like I've seen you do here in terms of ordering shit, he had an initiate try to kill all three of us going up to repair that asswipe DJ's broadcast signal a few months ago." He changed his expression to a sneer as she continued to look blank. "Oh let me guess, those little details weren't included in any of the incident reports you're all so fond of making."

Sarah stared at him, incredulous. "What the _hell_ were you doing for them to have cause to shoot at you?"

He snorted. "_Existing_? Fuck, they take pot-shots at the Underworld sentry all the fucking time for shits and giggles. She's so tired of it she doesn't even bother to dodge half the time." Charon had spent more than one shift outside with Willow over the years, whenever raiders or mercs or slavers had decided attacking the ghoul city was a profitable venture, one of the few things that would press Ahzrukhal into letting him out of the bar(and then only after everyone had threatened to never patronize it again). The little woman had had to explain to him in detail why they weren't going to shoot back at the tin cans while they were waiting for another wave of idiot smoothskins to assail the Museum, and he hadn't been in a position to pick them off later. "Cort was filthy, coated in blood and other shit, so they mistook her for a ghoul." He thinned his lips. "Being seen with _me _probably helped with that. Jeffries told her she had to expect that sort of treatment for travelling in my company."

The Sentinel ran a hand over her hair and then spread her arms apart, frustrated. Every time she talked with the big ghoul something else in her neatly delineated world view had a tendency to shift. While the sentient ghouls had been seen as vermin by many, ammunition wasn't supposed to be wasted on anything non-hostile, and shooting at a non-hostile _Wastelander_ was inexcusable. Owyn Lyons had made it their primary mission to protect them, causing the rift that had formed the Outcasts. _Father is going to have an absolute fit when he hears about this_. "Didn't she say anything before approaching?"

He gave her the same 'are you slow' look again before replying. "She didn't get a _chance_. We were a good fifty, sixty yards away, and the shithead initiate, Trouse, opened fire without warning." He looked back down and smiled again as his employer transferred both arms to him and crumpled into his chest, settling down into quiet hitching as he stroked her hair. "I'd warn the little fuck wherever he is, if I personally gave a shit. My girl holds a grudge like nobody else."

"I kinda _figured _that." Sarah turned as she heard someone sneeze, and noticed the doorway was crowded with people, jostling with each for a better view. _Oh great, the lookie-loo brigade. If the kid sees that she's liable to go off all over again._ "Don't all of you have something else to do? Or do you want me to _find_ you something to do?" Grinning darkly as they scattered, she crouched down next to Cort. "Kid?"

"Go _away_."

"I'd like to, but there's an awful lot of stuff that more than a few people are going to need to go over with you."

"I don't _care_." She burrowed her face against the ghoul's chest, shaking her head back and forth.

"Look, kid-" Cort cut her off.

"Charon." The ghoul picked her up in one fluid motion, wrapping her legs around his sides and then cradling her face against his neck as he quickly moved for the door.

"_Later_, Sarah, okay? Nobody's scattering her marbles again; they've all waited this damned long, they can wait until she's settled out."

Standing up with him, she frowned. "Elder Lyons is going to need to speak with her, as soon as possible."

"And he can, once she's not liable to fly right back off the handle. Ask yourself how far he'd get with her right now." He paused in the hall and shrugged, looking back. "I'll bring her out again when she's ready." He was gone in an instant, the dog following with a flash of feet and tail, and this time Sarah did pinch her nose as Gallows piped up from behind her.

"I bet she'd be impressive with a sniper rifle. We should give her one and see what happens."

"_THANK_ you, Gallows."

* * *

_Thanks for the reviews folks! I start work tomorrow(12 hour shift, yeeowch), but don't worry, there's some stuff already written up for the next chapter. I usually have at least half a chapter to three finished before I post a new one, so there's always more coming unless I say otherwise. ;)_


	64. Look at Me When I'm Talking to You

_Re: PM questions- I plan everything out way in advance, and generally have about 3-4 different ways the storyline can go at any time. I currently have a note file that's about 30 thousand words of nothing but plot points, fight scenes, death scenes, one liners and interactions/characterizations, and I'm constantly adding or deleting as I think of stuff or use it. I generally know what I want in a chapter, but the actual execution, most of it's sitting down, writing and going "Huh. So that's how you guys want to get from A to B. Okiedokes, then!" Sometimes the story just has a life of its own as well, and I end up somewhere entirely unexpected. Writing chapters like this and things with multiple characters is the hardest, action and gore is easy cheese. One of these notes I'll list the music I listen to get me going, if anyone's curious. And as always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts. ;)_

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* * *

_

**Charon** eagerly carried Cort down the hallway, pointedly ignoring anyone staring at them, and glowering at those who looked like they were about to open their mouths. Coming up to their room, he opened the door and looked down to Dogmeat. "Guard it." Grinning up at him, the dog planted himself outside the door as the ghoul walked in and shut it behind him. Moving rapidly to the bed, he sat down on the edge of it and then pulled Cort away from him, far enough to peer into her face. _ Thank fuck, she's still there._ Even with how sad she was looking and how upset he still was over what had happened, he felt positively giddy. "Cort, I-"

"You should've let me die. I wanted to."

_...love you_. Charon tightened his hands on her shoulders, the euphoria he was feeling being replaced by a sudden surge of anger. "Like fucking hell I was going to let you die. How the fuck could you ever want to do that, how the fuck _could_ you do it, Cort?"

She shrugged and answered in a matter-of-fact tone of voice that set his teeth on edge. "Dad's gone, Charon. I had to go too."

_Fuck. He's dead and that asshole is _still_ fucking her up. I'd fucking kill him if he hadn't already done it himself. I'll fucking blow his head off anyway if I ever find his body_. Giving her a little shake, he glared at her, feeling his temper coming loose. "Yeah well, you're _not _gone, and I'm sure as hell not. Everyone else always leaves, you can't leave, ever. I won't let you." Watching a new, sly little smile play over her face, he got even angrier at her next words.

"You couldn't stop me, you _didn't_ stop me from trying. I was just too sloppy this time." She brightened, looking almost sickeningly cheerful. "I'm getting better, though."

Charon snapped, all the anxieties and unanswered questions that had piled up in himself over the last month spilling out in a flood. "What the fuck is _wrong_ with you? Getting _better_? You're not _getting_ anything, any of it! Did-did you even fucking _think_ about what would happen to me without you? I would've needed to find a new employer, I'm fucking incapable of not having one. If you were gone without me, someone else would have had to take my contract, _would_ have taken it. I don't fucking _want _anyone else to take it. They would have had to-" His hands tightened again, digging painfully into her shoulder joints and making her wince, as he thought about someone cutting into her to retrieve it. "You said you were _responsible_ for me, would take care of me, how the fuck is _abandoning_ me either?" Voice cracking, he shook her again, hard. "You left me _alone_, Cort!"

* * *

**Looking** at his frantic expression, Cort felt herself crumpling, the dark impulses that kept circling around the edges of her mind stamped out one by one as she listened to his voice break. _Oh Jesus, I did leave him alone. I almost...fuck, what would've happened to him. Anything could have happened._ She had gone out of her way to obtain him, to take care of someone else so she wouldn't be by herself, and had nearly deserted a person who was completely dependent on her for his freedom. Someone she loved. The parallels to her own life were not lost on her, and made everything cut even deeper into her heart._ What's between him and some fucking asshole's stupid whims? Me. Goddamned me. I made him a promise he'd be okay, and I nearly broke it. Fuck, how do I make this up to him, how the fuck _can_ I?_ Bitterly chastising herself, she dropped her head. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking clearly." She closed her eyes as Charon gave her yet another shake.

"When the fuck are you _ever_?"

"_Never_, okay? I don't-I don't feel _right_ anymore. Something _is_ wrong." She hitched out a sob, starting to cry again. "It hurts so damn _much_, Charon, it feels like there's a hole in me, and something's in there, and I can't close it up no matter what I do. I just wanted it to stop. Look, I'm sorry, alright? You're right, I said I'd take care of you, and I didn't, I let you down and I left you alone, which was really fucking shitty of me, considering." _Oh God I hurt. Make it stop, or make something else...something else hurt. He can hurt me. I want him to, I want to feel it. I deserve it_. "You...you can punish _me_, if you want."

* * *

**Charon** looked down at the top of her head, partially shocked out of his fury by the offer. It was an entirely foreign and somehow perversely attractive concept. "What..._how_? I mean, no!"

"Yes. I-I don't know how. Pick something that was done to you. Whatever was the worst, do that." He shuddered as an image of Cort coated in broken glass briefly flashed into his mind, the larger pieces deeply embedded in her flesh. He had had to rub his back against a blasted tree to dislodge the pieces he couldn't reach, trying to catch them on the rough wood without driving them farther into himself.

"I won't do that, I _can't_."

She looked up at him stubbornly, furrowing her face up as she drew her brows together. "Yes you can. I'm yours. Look, do _something_ to me, I _order_ you to."

He stared back at her, backed into a corner and exasperated. "This is _completely_ inappropriate. It's fucking _backwards_."

"Yeah well, what isn't nowadays. And you sound like an old maid." Cort slumped forward again to rest her head on his shoulder, pressing her face against his neck. "Just do anything. I'm tired, I want to make things right, and I don't know how, but I need to. This is the best I can come up with." She sighed, and he closed his eyes as her warm breath went down the front of his shirt, only to quickly snap them open a moment later as a potentially acceptable solution occurred to him.

_Wait. Mine. She's mine. I have her back again. I can have her. _All _of her, however I want, and she can fucking see me. See what she did to me._ Standing up, Charon pulled her loose and set her on her feet, then leaned over to lock the door. If anyone had come near it on the outside, it hadn't been close enough for Dogmeat to make an auditory issue about it, but he didn't want to risk anyone managing to open it before the dog annihilated their hand. Turning back to Cort, he started stripping her Vault suit off, lifting her up to remove it and her boots, then quickly followed it with all of her underwear. Fidgeting nervously, she crossed her arms and looked up at him as he started to undress.

"_This_ is punishing me?" He glanced over as he shrugged out of the last of his clothing, tossing the entire bundle onto the bed. Whatever misgivings he was having were quickly being eradicated by a surplus of frustrated arousal created out of spending too many long nights with her right next to him, but entirely alone.

"You ordered me to do something, I'm doing something. If you don't want me to proceed, then just fucking tell me to stop."

Cort glared at him and wrapped her arms around herself tighter. "I'm not fucking telling you to stop."

"Then stop bitching about what I'm doing." Grabbing her with one arm, he knocked her feet out from under her with his heel, quickly catching her by the back of the thigh with his other hand. Lowering her down to lay on the bare floor, he slid hand between her knees and nudged insistently when she didn't move them apart. Cort pushed up on her elbows and he resisted the urge to back down, seeing her face. _It doesn't matter if she looks worried. She ordered me to do something, I'm doing it. Oh God, do I ever want to do it, its been too long, far too fucking long._ "Open up."

"Charon, I'm not ready. This isn't what I thought-" He cut her off, nudging harder.

"I _am_. Open your legs for me, Cort." Moving his thighs immediately in between hers as she hesitantly spread them, he reminded himself over and over that she could stop him whenever she wanted, then roughly pushed his entire length in all at once, groaning at the feeling of sliding back inside her. _Hot, so hot. Oh fuck, I forgot how hot she was. How soft_. Seeing her flinch and bite her lip to keep from crying out, he almost lost his nerve all over again, only holding onto it when she closed her eyes. "No, you open those too. You can see me now, you see what you've fucking done to me." She did as she was told and he looked into them, grey and soft and wet. "Do you know what it was like, being without you? I've only been alone once Cort, _once_, when I was shot up and bleeding against that fucking wall. Remember it?" She nodded, and he worked his hands into her hair as she tried to turn her head away, holding it tightly. "I wanted to die then. I tried to let myself go, to bleed out, but that bastard trader found me too soon." Feeling her heat around him, under him, he pulled harder on her hair as he started rocking his hips. "Having you gone was worse than that. You weren't there to tell me what to _do_, Cort. Do you know what I had to do, what I had to go _through_ for you?"

* * *

**Cort** looked up at him, feeling his hands painfully fisting up in her hair as he slowly started moving inside her, pressing down so hard she felt herself bruising against the floor. His face looked like it had so many times over the last month, grief-stricken, furious and filled with ill-contained panic, something only she had been able to see. He had hidden it from everyone else. She remembered all of it, everything contained perfectly in her mind, like a holotape left for her to review after she returned from being out, and it only got worse the farther back she went. Staring into his pale eyes, she forced herself to go over all of it as he held her down, different things floating to the surface as they came back to her. That hurt her more deeply than what he was doing, so much it was almost killing her inside all over again, and she took both sets of pain as her act of contrition.

_They passed two Initiates in the hallway, heading towards the Bailey. She had just started walking again, and he was carefully leading her by the hand. "You think she's actually still in there?" "I don't know, but if he really was fucking her, no wonder she's so messed up. I know I'd want to kill myself." "Christ, maybe he's still doing it. Corpses probably like to screw corpses, she smells like one already." Charon's face was terrifyingly livid for a moment before they went outside, allowing himself the expression where no one else could notice it. He said nothing, but when they got back to the room, he had stripped her naked and burned up a solid hour washing her everywhere, even though he had just done it for her that morning. He spent a long time with his face pressed against hers after finishing, tugging at her hair._

_Overhearing threats against him, herself, and even Dogmeat, and the emasculated look on his face when he reached for his shotgun after the worst of them and didn't find it. He fluidly turned the motion into scratching his back each time, swiftly making the expression look like annoyance at an itch. It took him a week to stop forgetting it wasn't there._

_He had taken her into the Library, and the terminal he sat her in front of that day was locked. Looking around, he grabbed the attention of the only scribe in the room, who was busily working on another machine. "Hey. Can you open this one? I haven't read this to her yet." A pause. "Please." The scribe looked over, irritated, and then sneering. "I don't have time to humour charity cases, I have work to do. She's probably too much of a drooling idiot for anything to sink in as it is, look at her." He turned away, and Charon clenched his hands into fists as soon as the scribe couldn't see him doing it. Looking back down to her, his face went from angry to stricken, and he uncurled one hand to wipe gently at her mouth and chin before sitting beside her. Taking up a paper and pencil that was next to the terminal, he painstakingly cracked the security code himself, then started reading like nothing had happened._

_Nights where she couldn't see anything in the dark, the light turned out, but felt a large hand pressing at the hard spot under her chest and her neck getting wet where Charon's face was resting against it._

_He fed her in the room one morning, not wanting to go out again after a particularly bad day, and she choked, the piece of food too big for her to handle yet. Two long fingers reaching into her mouth to retrieve it as he panicked, her lips turning blue and her eyes rolling up in her head by the time he managed to fish it out. He didn't feed her alone ever again. The next time it happened, he was in the Great Hall, and Knight Captain Colvin had simply walked over and hitched his hands up under her ribs, getting her to spit it out instantly. The armoured man returned to his own meal after giving her head a fond pat. The face nobody else saw then was completely humiliated._

_Dozens of mornings in perfect succession, him waking up and then hopefully looking into her face as he stroked her hair. Each time there was less hope and more desolation. _

_Li leaving the first night, and Charon going completely to bits after she was gone, chalky eyes swimming in tears and then spilling over, the first time she's ever seen him cry. "What the fuck am I going to do, Cort? You need to tell me what to do, I need orders. Why did you try to leave, you're the one who's never supposed to leave me, you're mine." If she had been around, she would have felt her heart breaking as he did. "You said it wasn't my fault, but it is, it fucking is. I failed you somehow."_

Cort reached up and laced her hands on the back of his neck, bringing him down even closer as she arched up and tightly wrapped her legs around him. "I know what you had to do. I remember all of it. I was still in there somewhere, and I remember every single _minute_. You never, ever left me alone, and you have _never_ failed me. I failed _you_, and I'm sorry."

Charon dropped his head to her neck and groaned, moving his hands down to her hips as she started pushing back against his thrusts. "_How_ sorry."

"_Very _sorry. I can't tell you how much." Squeezing harder, she stroked the back of his neck, smoothing her fingers over his patchy skin.

"Damnit Cort, I've missed you." Rising up and taking her with him, he rocked back and sat on his heels, sliding his hands around her waist and running long fingers up her spine until he gripped her shoulders, pulling her down into him. "So much."

"How much?" Cort gasped, trying to keep from crying out as he licked up the right side of her neck and bit at her ear. "Oh. _That_ much." Crushing her to him, he tugged at her earlobe and growled, moving faster as she let out a breathy squeal and started to roll her hips. Pent up and chasing the pain out of themselves, it didn't take long for them to crash against each other, Charon exploding inside of her first and then Cort following him instantly at the feeling of it, seeing stars as she muffled her cries against his neck. He stifled his own as she bit hard into him to do it.

Moving his hands off her shoulders after a few moments, Charon reached behind his head to grab hers, and gently pried them loose from his neck. Bringing them down between them, he tilted back to balance her as he rubbed his thumbs over the scars on her wrists, the short one on the left and the longer one on the right where she hadn't been impeded by her Pip-Boy. "Promise me you'll never do that again. Or anything else like it."

Cort felt a cold lump settle into the pit of her stomach, replacing the warm euphoria. She wasn't sure if it was out of distress from nearly breaking her earlier ones, or being constrained by a new one a large part of her didn't want to bear. Everything still hurt, and she could feel the chimes in the back of her head, waiting, soothing, warring against the desire to fall back into the ghoul's arms. "How do you know I'll keep it."

"You never break a promise, Cort. You're fucking batshit, but you keep your word when you give it. I've seen you go through hell to keep your word." Still holding her by the wrists, he pulled her in close and slowly placed his forehead against hers. "Keep it for me. Please."

"Tell me why I should. I...I need to hear it." _I need you to keep me from flying apart_.

Charon put her hands back where they had been and then started sliding his own over her, running them through her hair and down the sides of her neck like he had first done back in Vault 112. "I need you. I want you. I love you. I don't know what the hell you've done to me, but you're my whole fucking world, Cort. Don't make me live without you." Still inside of her, she felt him starting to stiffen again as he talked, trailing his mouth down her jaw.

Closing her eyes to keep sudden tears from spilling out, she clenched her hands into fists on the back of his neck as he moved his lips down to her throat. "I still might get killed, you know. I can't stop people from trying to off me, it's turning into a national Goddamned sport. What then. What if-"

Sighing, he rested his head against her chest, and she shivered, feeling his breath tickling over her stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as it went lower. "_If_ hasn't fucking happened yet. If it does, I'll make sure whoever got you ends me. I can swallow enough of my pride for that."

Cort buried her face in what was left of his hair as he trailed his hands down her sides and started pushing on her hips,spurring her to move along with him. "I wouldn't let you do that."

"You wouldn't be in a position to fucking stop me."

She smiled and felt like crying while she did it. "And they say chivalry is dead. Fine. I promise. As long as you're around, no, not that word, it's not enough, as long as you're _alive_, I swear I'll stay that way too. I'll stay for you. But if you die, all bets are off. Same rules apply, I'm checking out."

"I won't let you."

You won't be in a position to stop me." Charon moved his mouth lower and Cort found the stars again, the only thing shining through the new darkness inside of her.


	65. Do Not Impasse Go, Do Not Collect 200

**Dogmeat** was happily sitting outside of their current den, pleased to have something to do. His first world was awake again, and his big world was still tending to her as he ought. His opinion of the big one had risen immensely over the last few weeks, noting the dutiful way he heeled to her everywhere they went, even if he was getting the positioning off. Slanting to one side, he lifted up a hind leg to scratch at a clump of loose fur behind his ear, nearly tipping over a moment later as something occurred to him. Since when had the big moon become a big _world_? He sneezed in surprise, his paw hanging ridiculously in the air next to his face, twitching as his mind stalled over the new hierarchy asserting itself in his mind. The dense giant couldn't even figure out how to scratch his _ears_, no matter how simply he had spelled it out, how could he rise in status? Thinking about that part of himself again, Dogmeat automatically went back to scratching, digging out the offending tuft of fur he had been after and then dropped his leg back down.

Watching an armoured figure come over to the door, the light-haired woman, he thumped his tail until she reached for the door, then wrinkled his lips back from his fangs, savagely staring her down before returning to a relatively happy grin when she backed off. He stared up at her as she stared at him, and then reached for the door more quickly. This time he let a rippling snarl boom out of his chest and snapped hard enough to make his teeth click together, expertly missing her fingers by a fraction of an inch.

"Jesus fuck, dog. All right, I get it, I give up." Reverting to his normally pleasant demeanor as she finally desisted entirely, Dogmeat went back to thinking. He supposed the new arrangement wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He should have seen this coming, really, once the pair had started regularly mating(the animal was honestly surprised that she hadn't produced a litter yet, considering the frequency with which they normally went at it. It had always happened for him by now, if the stray bitch had been in heat, and his world seemed to normally exist in that state near constantly). Rolling his eyes as he thought about the amount of sleep he had lost because of their noisy conduct, he left that puzzle behind as being relatively unimportant to his personal status, and focused his uncomplicated mental machinery back onto his own concerns. He was certainly still best for his first world. There could be no question of that, ever. And the big world had used the good words on him more than once, even if he _was_ too stupid to figure out the simplest of his requests. As long as the big one was loyal to _her_, he decided that brains weren't the most important thing. Besides, Dogmeat was smart enough to make up for the big idiot's deficiencies as long as he kept her safe and happy. He was _best_.

* * *

**Both** people Dogmeat was concerning himself with guarding were sprawled on the floor, Charon not wanting to move since Cort was draped over his right side, and her so completely exhausted she wasn't sure if she could stand quite yet. The ghoul was watching her as she trailed her fingertips over the exposed veins and muscles on his chest, tracing lightly over the remaining patches of skin and their borders and peering closely at his flesh in the relatively strong light of the room. He still had a fair amount of skin left, comparatively speaking, a benefit of his younger age. _ Like anything about what I am is a fucking benefit. Who gives a fuck if you can heal indefinitely if it's back into this._ "What are you doing?"

She yawned and continued moving her right hand, shifting her focus to the side of his neck. "Looking."

"Like what you see?"

Finally stilling in her movements, she grumbled happily. "Always. You're perfect."

Absently pulling on her hair, he snorted. "You're blind."

Grinning, she nipped at his side. "I see exceedingly fine, thank you." Starting to doze, Cort listened to him snort again, comforted by the familiar sound. He tilted his head up farther, and looked down at her curled over him. She was clean, perfect and smooth, and he suddenly found the sight of her against his ruined body unbearable, the contrast between them stark in the fluorescent lighting of the room.

"Cort...why are you like this with me."

"Like what, Charon?" Moving his fingers over slightly, he rubbed behind her intact ear, making little circles on the sensitive skin there. "_Oh_. Is this a question about why I'm like this with you, or like this with a ghoul?"

"The latter."

"I suppose it's complicated, or not depending on how you look at it. Some of it's because of Gob. He was the first person who was honestly nice to me, and then a lot of people in Underworld were too, just because. And a lot of it...most of it is because of...Dad." Cort pressed her face against him for a moment, the memories around James obviously still achingly raw for her.

Charon widened his eyes, startled. "What? Your _father_?" The only thing he had gotten from James in regards to Cort was total disapproval or grudging tolerance, which he knew was only given to protect his daughter's feelings. The idea that he was responsible for her being with him in the first place was ludicrous. _I hadn't even heard of that jackhole before she found me, how the hell could he have anything to do with it at all_? "Fucking _how_?"

Turning her head so she could look at him again, she rested her cheek on his chest. "First, because he told me it didn't matter what people looked like, it only matters who they _are_. I think he started teaching me that because my Mom was a different colour. She was dark, you know, like Kodiak is, although you wouldn't know it to look at me. Once, when I was six, I heard Allen Mack call Mister Brotch some...names. I asked Dad what they meant, and holy _freaking_ hell. His face looked like a bomb going off. It scared the bejeesus out of me. He didn't tell me the answer to what I had asked, just to never use them myself, ever. I put the pieces together later on, going through the Vault library. Do you-do you know what I'm talking about? Because I'd really rather not say them now, either."

Charon answered her quietly, feeling chastised over the revelation that James _was_ partially accountable for him having Cort as his own. "I'm close to a century old, Cort, and a ghoul. Trust me when I tell you I've had time to hear the things people can spit out at each other and learn what they mean. Don't worry about it, just keep going."

"Okay. So yeah, anyway. Secondly, because of him, I like being around ghouls, period. It's comforting, because of the things I used to do with Dad. Anatomy lessons, my favourite books. The happiest moments I had growing up were spent looking at them, other things. Dissected corpses. Drawings or preserved pieces of them, learning the names for all the different parts. The smell's even the same." Inhaling, she briefly closed her eyes. "In a weird way, or not, again depending on how you look at it, you're pretty much everything I ever could have wanted. So that's why I'm like this with a ghoul. I just wish _you_ felt better about it." Frowning, he opened his mouth to ask what she meant, then was prevented from getting a word out as she quickly continued. "I know you think I'm gross, but it's okay. It doesn't matter. I know you love me and I can live with that."

Practically jerking out of the remainder of his skin, he stared at her incredulously, completely confused at what she had accused him of. "..._What_? What the hell are you talking about?"

She sighed and sat up. "Remember I told you I recall everything that happened while I was out to lunch?" Charon nodded. "That really includes everything. Including you agreeing with Sarah that you thought what we do, what we _are_, is...disgusting."

Wincing at the memory, he propped himself up on his elbows. "I meant that about _myself_, it had nothing to do with you." Seeing her face worked up into a distressed expression, he tried reassuring her. _Fuck, she still doesn't get it. I thought we were past this shit_. "It's all right. I deserve that kind of response from people, it doesn't bother me." A split second after the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them entirely. Cort was completely infuriated.

"The _fuck_ you mean it had nothing to do with me? It has _everything_ to do with me! And-and what the hell do you mean you deserve it, are you _fucking insane_? Don't you _dare_ say that! _Nobody_ deserves that!"

"I'm the one who's a rotting piece of shit, Cort. I know it, I've accepted it, you can't deny it, fucking look at me!" Charon snarled back at her, unhappily wondering how the hell they had gone from laying around contentedly to something approaching a flat-out brawl.

"_Don't_ tell me what I can and can't do." Pissed off and clearly on a roll, her face pale except for two flushed spots high on her cheeks, she snapped at him. "How the _fuck_ can you not care and hate yourself so much at the same Goddamned _time_? You are _not_ 'a rotting piece of shit'. I told you, you're perfect." Cort started tracking her hand over him again, dragging her fingers sharply down his right arm. "I don't just look at you, idiot. I _see_ you. _Everything's_ where it's supposed to be." She drew back her arm and slapped a raw patch on his wrist. "Brachioradialis." She moved her hand higher and repeated the motion, her face and voice starting to mellow out. "Biceps brachii. Right under the deltoid."

Grabbing her wrist before she could smack him a third time, Charon slowly drew her hand over to a raw patch on his side as he sat up beside her, seeing a way to divert her attention. _Fuck's sakes, I'm ending this shit now, I've had enough of it._ "What's this one."

She scowled at him. "External oblique."

"And this one?" He moved her fist to his chest, feeling triumphant as her expression cleared even further.

"Pectoralis major."

"And this."

"Trapezius." He slid her fingers up to the side of his neck and squeezed them gently. Cort smiled.

Charon smiled back. _Gotcha._

"Sternocleidomastoid." Moving her hand up, he brushed his lips over her palm and she closed her eyes. "Orbicularis oris." Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth against hers, and they kissed for the first time since the night he had tried to wake her with one. He was moving her hand to his stomach, having found the diversion agreeable enough to continue doing it, when a series of savage barks drifted in from the other side of the door.

* * *

**Cort** broke away from him and cursed at the door, extremely irritated at being drawn away from the ghoul and being reminded of where she was. "Ah crap. That probably means someone's after me."

Doctor Li's shaky voice wavered out a second later, confirming her suspicions. "Cort?" Hearing who was calling, she reluctantly yelled back.

"Yeees, I'm here, I'm back. Walking, talking, singing, dancing, top of the apocalyptic world. Just...just give me fifteen minutes okay? I'll come meet you in the Laboratory." Grumbling and hauling herself up as she heard Li's heels firmly and rapidly clicking away, Cort slowly stood and stretched, then moved to her pack and started digging through it. "I want my shirt and cargos, I am heartily tired of that Vault suit. It's comfy, but I've spent enough of my life in it."

"Wait." Cort looked back to Charon and lifted an eyebrow, puzzled. While all she wanted to do was stay hidden away from everything with him, she was more than positive her life wasn't going to let her get away with it. Right now her bladder was insisting rather firmly that it wasn't going to either, unless she wanted to get intimate with one of the buckets in the near future. Giggling at the thought, she answered him.

"For what? Eventually Dogmeat's going to sever something and I don't need to add to my entourage of murderous followers. My cup totally runneth over already."

"After what we just did you'll need a bath before you can go out. You stink." Getting up himself and pulling over one of the filled buckets he kept by the wall, Charon selected a clean rag from a tidy pile next to it, sinking it into the water and then wringing it out.

"Hey! There's some nice post-coitus chitchat, cheers for that." Cort lifted her left arm and snuffled delicately underneath it. "I do _not_ stink." Thinking back, she flushed and hung her head, continuing to talk quietly. "Besides, I _know_ I don't need it. You washed me down yesterday. I remember." He motioned to her, thinning his lips and frowning as he refused to meet her eyes.

"No, you stink like...like me. Fucking stench will be all over you, you can't go out like that." She snapped her head up and glared at him, furious all over again that he was still being caged up by the issues he had with himself and belatedly realizing that he had distracted her from them earlier.

"Since _when_? Since some assholes noticed I have a particularly unique aroma and turned up their prissy little noses? I _like_ smelling like you, Charon, it's _nice_. And I damn well know _you_ like it. Makes me feel...well, sexy." Flushing again for an entirely different reason, she rapidly continued. "Nobody's going to force me to change myself or what I want, and they're not going to control our actions by trying to degrade me _or_ you, and don't you _dare_ start that deserving it shit up again, I have had _enough_. Short form? Fuck. That. Noise. Stink stays." Sighing, she decide to leave the entire affair alone for the moment, her thoughts jumbling up. _ I'll work on it later. I'm too tired right now for this shit. Why am I so Goddamned tired? I've barely done anything today and I feel like I just tangoed with another Deathclaw_. Cort walked over and rubbed up against him as she nuzzled her face into his chest, talking through another yawn while he placed his hands on her neck. "There is entirely not enough stink. Stink stinkity stink."

Grunting contentedly, he moved two fingers up to tug at a tuft of her hair. "You're fucking looped."

"Maaaybe. I'm _definitely_ pretty damned _cold_. Put that rag away and help me get dressed instead, hmm? I'd like you to." She sighed, thinking about the ordeal ahead as he obeyed, tossing the cloth back into the bucket and taking out what she wanted to wear, laying it neatly beside his own pile of clothing on the bed. The last thing she wanted to do was go out among the people who had been observing her in her catatonia for an entire month. The idea alone was humiliating. "Time to get back in the saddle. Yippie-ki-yay, etcetera, and we'll sally forth, tally-ho. Whoopiedoo." Brightening, Charon looked over to her as she rambled.

"What _are_ we doing? What are your orders for me today?" Abruptly pulled out of her rising melancholia by his suddenly hopeful tone, she smiled at him.

"Same as always, so we'll need to get our weapons back. I miss my repeater, and I know you miss your shotgun."

He snorted, and started dressing himself when Cort flapped a hand at the bed, indicating for him to go first. "No fucking kidding. Durga stored everything in one spot, so that's easy enough. Want to go get them now?"

"No, it can wait until I decide wherever it is we're going. I'm really tired for some reason." She watched him curiously as he tugged his pants up. "Why don't you wear underwear anyway? I've always wondered."

"Chafes and it's too restrictive. I've never liked it." Charon finished buckling his belt and then pulled his shirt on, stretching and popping his shoulders and neck as he did so, smiling when it made Cort produce her gagging face. Finishing, he picked up her bra and then dangled it at her. "Why do you wear the tit-sling?" He smiled wider when she yelped, moving the item away as she made an indignant grab for it.

"The _WHAT_? Where in the freaking world did you pick up _that_ name for it?"

"Made it up myself."

"Oh, _classy_. I wear it to keep things from uh, uhm. Bouncing around." Sticking her tongue out as Charon snickered, she started grabbing up her clothes. "_Not_ funny, smartypants." She stopped as two large hands moved over her own, drawing the garment in question up over them and her arms before he nimbly hooked it together in the back.

"No, it's most certainly not. It took me forever to figure this fucking thing out." Spinning her around and pushing her to sit on the bed, he knelt and put his mouth briefly down to one breast, nibbling at it before tugging her bra entirely into place.

Cort arched her back in response, groaning. "Naughty. I'll get you for that, when you least expect it."

"_Sure_ you will."

"Better believe it, mister. There's stuff I haven't shown you how to do yet. I can plan an ambush of epic proportions. Involving wonderfully _dirty_ things." Sliding a foot up the inside of his thigh as he tugged her shirt over her head, she wiggled her toes when she reached the top, making him grunt in surprise. Charon grabbed her ankles, sliding her underwear into place, obviously immediately wishing he was stripping it back down as she darted a hand in to continue what she had been doing. Quickly retrieving her hand with one of his, he reached behind her with his free one for the next item of clothing, nuzzling at her cheek while he did.

"Mmm like what?"

"Like you'll have to wait and see, you insufferable tease. What you get for doing that to me right before we have to go out."

"I can be patient. You however, will crack like a damned Mirelurk egg."

"Oh trust me, I'll be testing your patience, along with a lot of other things." She grinned wickedly, biting her lip and looking up at him. "Now get my pants on so we can get back here sooner to take them off, hmmm?"

"Certainly, right after..._this_!" Cort squealed as Charon suddenly dropped to his knees and grabbed her left ankle, viciously tickling the foot attached to it, smiling like a fool while he dodged the other one. Letting go, he changed to a serious expression as he focused on gathering up her cargos from where he had dropped them on the floor.

Watching him fussily push them up her legs, she thought about how he could seem like so many different people all at once. One minute he could be talking in a distant and polite formality, and the next completely relaxed and profane. A bitter and ancient old man, and then acting like a teenager, brash and silly. Brutally violent and terrifying, or passionately gentle. Far more mature than she could ever be and in charge, or behaving like some child who was lost and alone, looking to her for comfort and direction. _I wonder if he even notices how much he changes. How deep he is._

"You know Charon, sometimes it feels like you're my age, or a lot younger. Like you're a big kid and I'm the grownup." He looked up and glared at her, chalky eyes severe as he jerked her pants up over her rear and finished dressing her. She looked back and gave him a shit-eating grin, waiting for the scolding she knew was now coming.

"I am most decidedly not a 'big kid', and furthermore, I do not recall myself ever being as foolish as you are, even when I was of a similar age. And thanks _so_ fucking much, by the way. That comparison makes me feel just _fantastic_." Reaching up, he buried his hands in her hair, his thumbs stroking behind her ears, his expression softening. "Jackass."

"I love you too."

* * *

_Technocide: Aww thanks dude! You're givin' me the warm fuzzies here. Enjoy Cort and Charon's while they last, we're getting close to their shit hitting the proverbial fan. And I mean really hitting it. Honeymoon's almost over, folks, and there are dark days ahead. I suppose this chapter was wanting to give them time to say things and be happy before it's too late._


	66. Falling

**Finally **emerging back into the hallway, Cort faltered at the amount of people waiting outside. Only half of them were pretending to be there for some other reason, reading posted notices or having mock conversations with each other. The rest were avidly staring at her. Backing up, she thumped solidly into Charon, who inclined his head down towards her and spoke soothingly. "Come on, Cort. You can do it. It's just the same scrubs you've been around all month. Let's go find Sarah and Li and we can get this shit over with."

"I just wish I knew what shit it was." Pushing herself into motion, she strode down the hallway, reaching out her hand. Dogmeat trotted up and placed his head into it a second later, letting her pull on his ears. Looking directly ahead and nowhere else, she rapidly made her way through A-Ring, heading for the Laboratory. _I'll see Li and then decide what to do. If Sarah wants to talk to me, _she _can come find me. I don't give two shits about beating that pompous asshole's face in._ Frowning, she moved slightly to the side, Charon coming up on her left at the unspoken request. "So tell me why you wouldn't let me kill that jerk earlier. He deserved it."

Charon leveled a bland stare at her and started flicking out the fingers on one hand as they walked along. "One, we have no weapons and weren't wearing armour. Two, we're currently living in the middle of the fucking Citadel, so killing a Paladin probably wouldn't be the swiftest move. Three, you probably couldn't have done it anyway, so why would I watch you flail around like a Yao Guai having a seizure trying? It was _embarrassing_." He dodged and grinned as she swatted at him, grabbing her briefly by the Pip-Boy to pull her off balance and into him. "Besides, you can always get him later, or I'll gladly do it for you." His face darkened, banishing his earlier levity. "I would have done it then if I could have. Half your damned face is turning purple, and so are your ribs."

"I'll get him. I'll fucking annihilate him. Bits. Into bits. All of everything into pretty, pretty bits." Cort looked oddly blank for a moment, then shook her head, coming back out of wherever she had just gone. "Do-do you have any idea what's going on? With the...the Purifier?"

"Enclave still has it, and it's still not working. Other than that, don't know, don't care. I was busy with more important things. I _do_ know those bastards are all over the damn place, the shifts that rotated back into the Citadel a few days ago have been twitchy as fuck about it." Hearing the name of the group that had forced James into killing himself jarred her, and she stumbled going down the stairs, Charon hauling back on her belt before she could fall. "Careful! You're always too damn clumsy when you're tired. You've had a long day."

"What? No I haven't." Raising her Pip-Boy, she jabbed at a button. "It's not even two in the afternoon yet, silly." Rolling her eyes when he pointed towards the hand rail, she grabbed it and kept going at a more sedate pace. "Mother hen."

"Damn straight." Pushing through the doors at the bottom of the stairs, they strode into the cavernous room, grey metal walls gleaming in the dim light. Scribes were moving quietly everywhere, and there were echoes of keyboards being hit, slips of technical jargon rising in and out of the soft tapping. Dominating the center of the Lab was the massive Liberty Prime robot the Brotherhood had recovered when they had occupied the old Pentagon, surrounded and supported by a huge grid of scaffolding.

Cort looked at the silent, hulking figure, shining dully where spotlights had been set up to illuminate it. She had been expecting to derive some kind of excitement from seeing it again, thinking about it as they had come down to the Lab, and was vaguely upset when she didn't. _Something like this should be driving me wild, and I don't even care. It just doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters, it's all dead anyway. All dead, I'm all dead, all dust, and all I am is shadows, shadows._ "Your shadow at morning striding behind you, your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust."

"_What_?" Jerking at the concerned, raspy voice that was suddenly next to her ear, she turned to face Charon and smiled.

"Sorry, where was I?"

"You said something about shadows and dust."

"No, I meant where was I _really_, I don't kn-" Seeing the suspicious look on his face, Cort abruptly snapped her mouth shut, realizing what she was trying to ask him. Quickly running over what she had said and recognizing it, she came up with a rapid excuse, unsure of why she said it but not wanting to worry him. "Sorry. Was thinking about uh, a poem and got side tracked. The line is from something called 'The Wasteland', appropriately enough." Forcing a yawn, she reached her hand out, mentally giving thanks when his face cleared and he took it, lacing his fingers through hers. "You're right, I am tired today."

Frowning, the ghoul looked over behind her. "It's about to get a lot more tiresome."

Cort turned and swore, seeing what was heading their way. Feeling Charon trying to let go, she held tighter, needing the reassurance. Li, Sarah Lyons _and _Elder Lyons were coming towards her, along with a Scribe, dressed in a similar robe to Lyons' but faded scarlet. He was slight, balding, and with white hair. She scrabbled through her memory for a name, finding it a moment later. _Rothchild, that's who he is. The Head Scribe. Just perfect._ Li smiled warmly as she came up, and Cort felt slightly better.

"Cort, I'm happy to see you looking better. We were all so worried."

Smirking, she raised an eyebrow. "Even Daniel? I'm sure he was just totally torn up about me."

Li scowled and then waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Let's not get bogged down by that, there's too much to do. I would like you to meet Elder Lyons and Scribe Rothchild. I've explained to them about the Purifier and the G.E.C.K., and after going through the Brotherhood's Archives, we've managed to locate a Vault that was issued with one." Nodding to Elder Lyons, she stepped back.

"My child, I cannot adequately express my grief at hearing of your father's passing. He was truly a great man, and a shining example to the Wastes." Rothchild moved up beside him, bowing slightly.

"I must also offer my condolences. The world has lost one of its few remaining visionaries."

She nodded at the unwanted platitudes and tried to look interested as Lyons explained what had happened after the incident at the Purifier. After seizing control of the Jefferson Memorial, the Enclave had fortified their position and then started setting up checkpoints on all the old major roads, out in the Wasteland and the downtown core. The Brotherhood was aware of their locations in the city itself, but had been spread so thin by the amount of Super Mutant activity, nothing had been done in regards to stopping them. Since the Enclave seemed to have no interest in engaging with their own outposts, Lyons had remained visibly neutral. Seeing Sarah twitch behind him, Cort got a mental picture of two Radscorpions circling around the same corpse, neither one attacking _or_ getting the prize. _Except the Enclave has their prize. It just didn't come with the batteries. Not included._ She bit her cheek to keep from laughing wildly as she envisioned Autumn opening a Christmas toy and being disappointed that he couldn't make it work, and managed to force her attention back to Elder Lyons once she started to taste blood.

The Brotherhood knew of the positions in the Wasteland because of the traders and caravan merchants, who had reported on encounters with them when Durga had gone out to trade, looking for any unique tech they might have dug up. The Enclave hadn't been overtly hostile to them either, although more than one had said that the grey-suited officers had talked to them like they were mentally deficient, seeming surprised when they discovered they weren't. After that, they had rattled off some kind of rhetoric about supporting the resumption of a strong economy, provided them with pre-war money and encouraged its use, and according to the little Knight Captain, grilled them for intel. There was also mention of some kind of weird research stations, with cargo containers none of them had been permitted near. Since most of the information Durga received was second and even as far removed as fifth hand, she wasn't sure what was genuine and what wasn't. All the Brotherhood had decided on was that on the surface, the Enclave appeared to be trying to keep up the same appearances as they had with the Eyebots.

Lyons sighed and shook his head, worry lines creasing through the wrinkles of his face. "We of course know that they are looking to control everything under the pretense of restoring the country to what it once was, a laughable endeavour. Project Purity, if it can be made operational, is a large part of that, which is why Doctor Li has remained here under our protection. Thanks to the records her staff was able to uncover in our Archives, we now know the location of what is needed to make that possible, and can guide you on your quest. Since we are currently not in a position to retake the Memorial, we must ensure that the G.E.C.K. does not fall into the Enclave's hands. Rothchild, if you will?" He gestured to the Scribe, and Cort followed behind the group as they moved to a large orange panel glowing out of the far wall. Coming closer, she saw that it was a map of the entire Capital Wasteland, small markers and coordinates popping out as a magnifying disk set on the axis of two rails moved silently over it.

"As you see, we have records of every Vault built in the Capital Wasteland." Listening to Rothchild go on about the different locations, Cort bitterly wondered if any of these people realized that they had been effectively talking at her, and not to her. She hadn't made a peep after the quip about Daniel Agincourt. _Again, I'm the errand girl for what everyone needs, slaved out to the march of someone else's drum. All because of that fucking Purifier. I should strangle every last one of them, then they'll shut up and it'll be quiet except for the sounds in my own head, my own-_ Cort blinked, feeling Charon squeezing her hand. She had his in a crush, gripping so hard she was hurting herself, and she forced her fingers to relax as Rothchild started talking about Vault 87.

"I'm afraid that finding your way into this particular Vault may prove to be rather difficult. From what we've been told by local travellers, there appears to be massive amounts of radiation around the recorded location of the entrance. There is however, another possibility. 87 is extremely close to an expansive cave system, Lamplight Caverns, and it is entirely possible that Vault-Tec took advantage of them during the initial construction. You may be able to gain access there." He fell silent then, and she realized everyone was waiting for her to respond, looking at her questioningly.

Cort forced a smile onto her face and tried to sound cheerful. "Sure, I might be able to. I have the location already in my Pip-Boy. We can start out tomorrow."

Lyons beamed at her. "Excellent! I was hoping you would be willing to start so soon, where we cannot. With you assisting us, we can make your parents' dream a reality. I will inform Durga that she is permitted to trade with you, should you require anything for your journey. You may also inquire with Paladin Gunny if you are interested in receiving Power Armour training, the knowledge may be of use to you in the future." Clapping his hands together, he nodded to Cort and moved away, Rothchild bowing and following after a moment later. Turning to the other two women, she instantly regretted the movement. Li was looking at her with such a sappy expression of blind hope that Cort felt sick just looking at it.

"I knew we would be able to count on you. You're so much like your father." Her face turned suddenly serious. "Cort, back in the Purifer, James mentioned showing me a gift Charon had given you. What was he talking about? It could mean something extremely important for us."

"He gave me this." Cort lifted her right hand, showing Li the part of the Masterbrain Charon had presented to her as a bracelet. She had almost forgotten about the odd comment entirely, and watched as Li grasped and turned it, looking at the numbers.

"Four eights. There's no way it could be that simple."

"What?" Li shook her head and smiled in response to her puzzled expression, letting go of her.

"Don't worry about it for the moment. I'm not sure if it means anything yet anyway. Let me know if there's anything you need before you set out, I need to get back to work. There's going to be a lot to do shortly."

Watching _her _trot off, Cort reluctantly looked to the last person standing in front of them, giving Charon's hand another squeeze as she focused in on the woman. If anyone was disapproving of the way she was holding onto the ghoul, she hadn't noticed it, and presumed by now everyone was used to her being attached to him in some capacity. _Well, that's something. Now if we can just get the rest of the assholes out there to do this I'll be on top of the flippin' world. If the Brotherhood can do it, why the hell not everyone else_. "Hi, Sarah."

"Hey kid. Nice to see you up and around."

Cort plastered her smile back on, finding it a bit harder to do this time. It felt like she was having to pay attention to herself constantly, although holding onto Charon made it easier. _It makes everything real. You've got him, he's real, he's there. He's not a lie like everything else is, so just hold on. _"Nice to be up and around. Listen, I'm sorry about having a brawl in the middle of the Great Hall, but that Paladin had it coming."

The blonde grinned briefly. "Knight."

"What?"

"Once Father heard what he had done to you, Jeffries was busted down the ranks. Thought you should know." This time Cort's smile was genuine.

"Freaking awesome. I bet he's pissed as hell."

"Oh you bet he is, and nobody will sympathize with him since they found out what happened."

"Good." Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, she slumped, tired with absolutely everything and wanting nothing more than to escape from it. "Listen Sarah, I really need to crash out. I know I just came around, but I feel like I've been awake for days."

"No problems kid. You need anything, ever, you find me or one of the Pride. You too, Charon." Tipping a lazy salute as the ghoul nodded, she moved off and out of the Lab. Cort stayed where she was for the moment, letting the quiet sounds of the room envelop her again. Charon broke through them after a few minutes had passed, looking decidedly morbid.

"You should get some rest starting _now_ if we're heading that far out. It's going to be a fucking slog." He tugged on her hand and she allowed herself to be led back to their room, collapsing on the bed when they got there and curling up into a loose ball. Patting on it, she hugged Dogmeat to her when he jumped up and laid down.

"We're not going to Vault 87."

Charon blinked. Remembering her insanely dogged pursuit of her father, he had expected her to want to set out for the G.E.C.K. as soon as possible and hadn't bothered trying to dissuade her, seeing it as a pointless waste of energy. "What? Then why did you tell them that?"

"Tell them what? I never directly told them I would be doing anything for them, I only stated facts that they could assume whatever they wanted out of. Let them think I am, it'll keep them feeling all fuzzy and make them leave me the fuck alone. I never want to have anything to do with Project Purity again. It's taken everything from me. It took my home, it took who I was, it took away my father. For all I fucking know, it took away my Mom. If she had been in a real clinic, maybe I wouldn't have killed her. I won't let it take the rest of my life they way it took my parents."

Frowning, he considered correcting what she had said about her mother and then decided it wasn't the time, seeing how stony her face was. Finding her statements about Project Purity to be entirely accurate, he didn't give them a second thought. Cort herself was eminently adapted for surviving on the existing available water, and the ghoul was willing to ignore the moral issues of not completing the Purifier if trying to do so ended up killing her. It had already come chillingly close. _I'm willing to blow the fucking thing sky high if it'll make her safer. Screw everyone else, they're made out so far_. Sitting down on the floor next to the bed, he reached out and gently worked his fingers into her hair. "Well then, what _are_ we going to do?"

Cort considered the question carefully, her expression relaxing somewhat at his caress. Part of her still wanted to stay buried somewhere, but the feeling had lessened drastically after making up her mind about not wanting to complete her parents' work. _And that's what it was. _Their_ work. I do my _own_ work._ "Everything _we_ want to for a change. I want to explore just because, see what's out there. I started helping people on my own while I was out here too, and I'm going to keep doing it. Dad was right, the people out here are mine, and I'll take care of them. But I'll do it _without_ that fucking mechanical _albatross_ that's perched on the river."

Knowing her penchant for vendettas, he asked an extremely pertinent question, phrasing it to suss out how insane her potential plans would be. "And the Enclave? They seriously screwed you over, Cort. Personally, I definitely want to blow their heads off. Top of my fucking list."

"Ditto. Well a frontal assault is out, we both know that. We'll pick them off as we go, take them out one by one, guerrilla warfare. Eventually, they'll run out of bodies. Will they ever. We'll kill every last stinking one of them." _And I'll make it slow, so slow. I'll make them feel every inch. They'll beg me for it. All of them will, everyone._ She blinked, her head clearing as Charon rubbed behind her ear. "They won't be able to use the Purifier either. They have no idea what they need or where it's located. Nobody but me, you, and the people here know about the G.E.C.K. or where Vault 87 is, and there's no way anyone is _ever_ getting back into the Vault-Tec Mainframe without me. Niels freakin' Bohr couldn't crack through the mess I made in those terminals."

"Good enough." Pushing himself back up, he moved over to their packs and started digging around for something to feed her, frowning. Once they left, he would have to kill something for them to eat. Since everything from their supply run was still in their packs when they left the Memorial, he had had more than enough food to keep all three of them going, but they were nearly out of it, not having had a chance to go out and scrounge up more. What was left were mainly packets of junk food, things he personally thought were crap in a bag. Shrugging, he took out what remained. _Fuck it, I'll find her a Mirelurk tomorrow, it'll be a cinch this close to the river. That'd be better than anything, and she can stuff herself silly._

"Think I should take the time to learn how to use Power Armour?" Charon turned and crossed his arms, eyeing her critically as she weakly tugged on Dogmeat's ears.

"I'd say yes, but there's probably no way you could do it right now. It's been a _month_, Cort. I meant it earlier when I said you've had a long day; for what you're used to right now, it was. I kept you moving, but there wasn't much else I could do to keep you fit."

"So you're saying..."

"I'm saying you're pretty much a pale-assed, limp-wristed wuss at the moment. I think you'll have problems with just our normal armour."

"Hey! I beat the hell out of that asshole this morning."

"You scraped him up and got lucky because your aim isn't dependent on strength. If you had been in your normal physical condition and gone at him while _that _fucking pissed, you probably would have crushed his skull before I could've grabbed you."

Cort didn't find that particular idea to be disagreeable. The thought that she had lost part of her competitive edge was. "So, great. I'm back to being the pantywaist I was when I left the Vault, _perfect_."

Charon snorted derisively and rolled his eyes. "Hardly. Don't be a fucking idiot. You'll be fine after you get out again for a while, and like I said, you can aim. Now, where are we getting out to? Please not somewhere blisteringly stupid like you normally choose." Cort stuck her tongue out and he grinned.

Closing her eyes, she carefully considered the question. While she could remember everything about the Citadel from her time there, none of it felt familiar, and she dearly wanted something familiar. Needed it. Settling on the place where she had lived the longest since emerging from the Vault, she opened them back up. "Underworld. I want to go to Underworld. Then I want to go see Gob. I want to see people who don't want me to do anything for them for once, who just want to see _me_." She sighed. "I'll have to ask Gunny to teach me later. That'll be fun when I come back, explaining why I haven't been trotting out like a good little soldier to fix the fucking Purifier."

"Don't worry about it, _I'll_ teach you, I know how to wear the shit. It'll take me longer, but I can do it. You'll hate it though, noisy as hell."

"How the heck do you know how to...oh. _Them_."

"Yes, them. Now come on, you need to eat something and go to sleep." Sitting back down next to the bed as Cort reluctantly sat up, Charon handed her the last cartons and tins of food until she had completely gorged herself and tipped back over. He hadn't mentioned it, but Cort was also visibly thinner. Keeping her adequately fed had been difficult even when she had started doing it herself, and she was at least twenty pounds lighter than she had been. It had been hard to tell in the shapeless Vault suit, but now that she was back in her regular clothing it was obvious, the t-shirt and pants practically hanging off of her. She had been thrashed out on every possible level, and it showed in every inch. "How about we spend a whole week there, huh? No rush to get anywhere now. We can scrag ferals and scavenge for caps, easy stuff." In response to his question, she started snoring, and he sighed. Pulling himself up, Charon motioned for Dogmeat to get down, removing Cort's boots as the dog obeyed. Taking off his own after snapping the light off, he curled up behind her and buried his face in her hair, willing himself to sleep along with her as he held her tightly. "Promise me you'll still be you when you wake up. Promise you'll be here."

The ghoul got half of his wish. Cort managed to sleep until somewhere around midnight before she woke up screaming, chased out of it by nightmares. "_DADDY_!" Jerking awake, Charon instantly vaulted out of the bed and crouched defensively in front of it as he hit the floor, eyes searching the gloom and arms aggressively spread out to face whatever was threatening her before rapidly turning back to his sobbing employer.

"What the _hell_, Cort?" Reaching over, he snapped her Pip-Boy light on and peered into her face as she wailed.

"I saw him die, I saw him die again and I couldn't stop it, oh God, why couldn't I stop it, why? I didn't even hug him that morning, why didn't I go hug him? I tried so _hard_...trying hard to stop it..._what's happening to me_?" She suddenly shook her head violently, heaving wretchedly as she cried and nearly throwing up as her lungs emptied with each expulsion of grief.

"Fuck." Moving back onto the bed, he pulled her into him and started stroking her hair, his other arm wrapped around her shoulders as she leaned against his chest. "You couldn't do either because it wasn't possible. There was too much shit stacked against you. It wasn't your fault." She didn't respond, only pressed herself in tighter, her face wavering between sadness and a flat, cold fury. Glancing at her as he shifted his arms to cradle her, he wasn't sure which he liked the look of less. After a long while, she settled down and he laid her back on the bed, apprehensively observing her until he noted her falling asleep again. Relieved, he pushed himself back into his own rest after waiting to make sure she was entirely under. Charon had the nagging feeling that he was going to need all he could get.

* * *

**Cort** slipped in and out of her restive slumber for hours as she felt things slip around within her. Somewhere, deep inside but not tucked far enough away to be hidden completely, there was a hole in the fabric of what she was, letting out something that she could be. It had been there since she had first left the Vault, tearing wider as she moved through her new life and was battered by it. Finding the dog and the ghoul had started to mend the wound; losing James had made it rupture irreparably, the trauma of the event almost managing to rip her mind entirely apart. Her earlier confession to Charon had been chillingly accurate, and her two companions and remembered friends were the only things keeping her from degenerating further, aside from her own tattered will. Anything agitating her before had a chance to cause her temper to flare out of control; if she was left unchecked, it now had the potential to drive her into an unstoppable maelstrom of violence.

She smiled, feeling a large body press against her own, the touch briefly bringing her out of where she was going. She smiled again after it had moved away, Charon rolling over in his sleep, and this time it was terrible. _I'm in the dark, what I am is in the dark. Dark am I, yet lovely. In the dark, I have no name._

Cort had come back wrong.

* * *

**So concludes the first chronicle of Cort, Charon and Dogmeat. Look for their continuing adventures in the second installment, "Into the Pitt, She Falls".**

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_Wow, so here we are at the ending of Out of the Dust, She Rises. I want to thank every single one of you for reading, especially my reviewers! Those of you who have taken the time for multiple ones, and those of you who have reviewed for the first time just to tell me something, all of you, are totally freaking aces. Thanks to the silent ones too, I can see you on the traffic page! _

_My second installment(I am planning three in total) will be about this length or so, and as I can say this without giving any plot points away, much, much darker(I'll also be getting more risque with the language in some of the sex related chapters, since I'm more comfortable writing them now). And no, you won't go frootloopy waiting, the first chapter of 'Into the Pitt' is already up, or will be when catches up. ;) I planned ahead. If you missed it on the front page, remember you can find it by clicking on my name at the top of the page. Those of you who have faved this part or added it to your alerts, I would LOVE it if you would do the same for next one, I found it greatly encouraging._


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